The Women from Hell
by Pixo
Summary: or the story of the 2nd Ath and the Siege of the Second Circle
1. Prologue

**The Women from Hell  
****or  
****the story of the 2****nd**** Ath and the Siege of the Second Circle**

**::::**

**Prologue**

**::::**

Anhedonia, lord and master of the Evancalors, walked the battle line. His ornate, ivory white and purple trimmed power armor was adorned with symbols of fertility and violation, the rune of Slaanesh proudly emblazed on his shoulder guard. Lasbolts and hard rounds flew through the air. Explosions threw earth skywards. He smiled at the pain of his enemies, the pleasure of his followers. He leapt up onto a smoking and destroyed bunker, chuckled at the scene before him and radiated, glowed with pleased contentment.

"My lord!" shouted a voice.

Anhedonia turned and saw Cinxio trotting up to him. His ivory white and purple armor smeared with dirt, blood and other fluids, his phallus shaped bolter smoking. The Aspiring Champion leapt up onto the bunker with easy.

"My love," Anhedonia said, and learned forward kissing each of Cinxio's cheeks. Cinxio returned the affection. The Chaos Marine Lord continued, "Slaanesh's blessing to you. Was there something you needed, my pet?"

"Bless you, my love-lord," Cinxio purred, "The left flank has fallen, the Imperial-dogs are falling back. Where do you want me?"

"Hmmm … oh looky here," Anhedonia looked down, and with great glee said, "a live one!" The huge Chaos Marine Lord leapt down and plucked an Imperial Guardsmen from the ground. Anhedonia held the Imperial off the ground by both wrists in one huge gauntlet.

"Look here, my pet," he said, speaking to Cinxio, "The Imperium has gotten so weak they send their little girls after the likes of us."

The Guardsmen was a women, small and worn-out looking. A dirty, grey-green uniform and black flak vest covered her body, she had no helmet, and blood ran down the back of her skull.

"My love-lord, don't play with it. You don't know where it's been," Cinxio said haughtily.

"Oh poo, Cinxio you never let me have any fun. Well, the Fawners could enjoy her at least." Anhedonia pulled a bulb headed mace from his belt, and daintily twirled the guardswomen round a little. He raised his mace and stuck the base of her spine, shattering the vertebrae and paralyzing her from the waist down.

He casually tossed her aside for his minions to find later.

"You where saying?" Anhedonia asked.

"The plan, love-lord?"

"Ah, yes," Anhedonia looked to his right. A lascannon echoed nearby. He said, "I believe we could find the most pleasure by _penetrating_ their battle lines to the west. Those emplacements have held us up for too long … and you know I hate waiting for my pleasure."

After a moment, when Cinxio didn't answer Anhedonia looked back to his left. He didn't see his champion, not standing at least.

"Why are you lying down?" he asked, then asked, "… why don't you have a head?"

Anhedonia frowned and yanked out for his boltpistol. A lascannon cracked again, very near.

He lowed himself into battle stance and followed the echo with his eyes. Seventy meters away he spotted the gun. He clinched his eyes tightly, irises contracting to focus in on the weapons team.

On the hill's slope two women laid side-by-side, huddled around an Imperial lascannon. Their grey-green battle dress was filthy and ruined, helmets pitted and scarred. The gunner was the younger of the two, pale-faced and blue-eyed. The other was older, harder, with a wide mouth, black eyes and hair. He watched her lip curl with hate.

_Why hate so, my love?_ Anhedonia thought as he raised his right arm and fired his boltpistol. When nothing happened he looked at his arm to saw, as a matter of fact, that he had no arm. The previous shot had removed it just below the shoulder.

He glanced back to the women; he saw the hard-faced one mouthed the word - _Fire_.

The lascannon blinked and cracked. A bolt of energy the size of a fist punched straight through Anhedonia's chest. In a shower of sparks and perfume haze, the burning bolt exploded the power armor's backmounted powerpack.

Anhedonia staggered and stumbled. With his suit's power gone, he collapsed to his knees, then flopped backwards.

With great enough he lifted his head and glared at the women, he snarled at them, "_bitches_…"

The lascannon blinked and cracked once again and Anhedonia's head ceased to exist.


	2. The Mermaids

**One  
The Mermaids**

**::::**

"_All of the worlds of the Imperium shall look to their own defense. They shall also look to the defense of the Imperium, and the prosecution of such wars as the Emperor in His wisdom shall decree. Therefore, each populated planet shall raise and maintain its own planetary defense force, and from the ranks of this defense force it shall provide the best of its troops for recruitment into the Imperial Guard, according to such requirements as shall be imposed by the Administratum."  
- _from the Introit to the Codex Exercitus

**::::**

_881.995 M41  
Segmentum Obscurus, Dion Sector, Wasp Sub-Sector, Ath System, Ath_

Furia Morrigan strolled down a long high-arched hallway in the Bastion's administration complex, cup of recaff in hand, the days boardsheets folded and tucked under an elbow. Banners and prayer-clothes, scripted with Imperial hymns and emotive phrases lined the long corridor. Every fifty paces a brazer burned sanctified incense, filling the overhead vaults with a colored haze. Through the incense smoke servo-skulls drifted off on tasks and errands, leaving eddies and vortices in their wake. Nearby, a choir was warming up for morning service.

Morrigan wore her grey-green day uniform, knee-high boots and walked with purpose – the clicking of her boot heels matched the clacking of clerks and officers tapping away at cogitators. From a doorway a small women stepped out and paced alongside Morrigan. She was well-dressed in her lieutenants uniform, "Good morning, Colonel," the young women said.

"Morning Ting," Morrigan replied, continuing to walk briskly. "Everything alright?"

"Yes ma'am. I've got your day reports, and schedule for today's meetings."

"Anything of interest in the reports?"

"Ma'am, you know I'm not allowed to read the reports."

Morrigan smiled at the Ting, "And that's why I know you've read them."

Ting smiled sheepishly and looked at her boots, "Ma'am."

Morrigan nudged her with an elbow and prompted, Ting said, "There is one file here, high level code, I couldn't access it."

"Oh?"

"It's from Sub-Sector command."

"Now, that is interesting," Morrigan replied as she stepped up a heavy door, Ting leaned forward and opened it for her. The colonel stepped in and two women rose for their desks, saluted and said in unison, "Morning Colonel."

Morrigan returned the salutes and said as she walked through the antechamber, "Morning ladies. Iatica, how's the back?"

"Doing much better, thank you for asking ma'am."

"Anything happening?"

"Major Rhoda called around earlier. She said it wasn't important and that she'd be around later," Iatica said.

Morrigan nodded, "Carry on." She strode into her office and throw up the curtains, dull greylight from a drab, grey day greeted her. "Ting leave those files on my desk."

Ting deposited the files on her large, wide desk and said, "Colonel, your first meeting is at oh-eight-thirty."

The colonel checked her chrono, twenty-seven minutes. "Thank you Ting. Give me ten minutes, then we'll prepare for the meetings."

"Ma'am," Ting replied and departed.

Morrigan pulled off her dress jacket and slung it over the back of her chair. Taking up her recaff she paced to the window. The city of Atholm was a dull, grey affair. For her view atop Bastion Hill, she could see dark temple spires jab at the somber grey clouds; low stone-walled houses huddled together in tightly packed neighborhoods, as if for warmth or comfort; the large bay and hundreds of fishing ships at anchor, hundreds more would be out in the sea, pulling the world's tithe from the waters. Looking to the left, she could see the starport. Used only a few times a year, the long, rectangular concourse and huge control tower looked lonely and windswept.

At a population of a few hundred thousand, Atholm was the largest city on the planet. The world of Ath was an oceanic world, and the hundreds of thousands islands and cold, hard seas didn't encourage population growth.

Nor did the strange genetic anomaly which made nine out of ten births female.

Ath world was a chromatically uninspired place; iron grey clouds, slate colored seas, charcoal color beaches, with green peat and brown heather dominating the majority of the islands. Only the few equatorial islands possessed trees, large bodied animals, and anything resembling vibrant colors.

Sipping her recaff she returned to her desk. She took up her dataslate and saw her reflection. Her face was still strong, wide-cheeks and well-shaped eyes, her heir graying respectably. She nodded at herself before activating the d-slate.

The morning's files were the usual sort of administration a senior officer of the Imperial Guard was responsible for - personnel reports, duty rosters, maintenance records, equipment allotments and transfers, training schedules, etc. – even though she did not have a regiment, as such, to call her own. Her unit, the Second Ath, had never seen action, never even been activated. It existed solely on paper. Current numbers stood at just over two hundred soldiers and most of those were officers, whose main occupation was guarding the rarely used starport.

She put those reports aside and opened the coded file.

The dataslate buzzed and text scrolled across the screen "… _access code required_ – **BETA** _Level_ …"

Morrigan raised an eyebrow at that. Beta, while not the highest level of security by any means, was the highest she'd ever been asked for in the career spanning more than thirty years.

She pressed her thumb to the screen, the device clicked once, and a digital keypad appeared. She keyed in her seconded highest passcode, "*** *** * * ** **"

The device buzzed for a few moments, then text began rolling across the screen. She paused it and rolled back the data. Her mouth fell open.

"Ting! Get in here!"

Her adjunct pushed open the door, "Ma'am?"

"Cancel all today's meetings," Morrigan said.

"Ma'am?" she inquired, confused.

"And assemble the officers. Go girl, go!" Morrigan had stood up, holding the dataslate in her hand.

"Ma'am, please, what for?"

"Ting, we're being activated."

**::::**

Twenty minutes later Morrigan stood at the window again, hands behind her back, staring hard at the starport. She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of the door opening. Ting stepped through with another officer in tow.

Turning around she looked at the women standing before her. Over thirty women in grey-green day uniforms stood at ease. Each wore the mermaid patch of the Second Ath on their shoulder. On their collars were various emblems of rank; lieutenants, both minor and major, captains, and her five majors.

"That's the last of them, Colonel," Ting said.

Morrigan nodded at her adjunct. "Ladies, sorry for the suddenness of calling you here, but I assure you it's important."  
The women looked at one another briefly.

"I received orders this morning from Sub-Sector command. The Lord General of Wasp has ordered Ath to assemble the Second for immediate mobilization. Ladies this is the day we've been waiting for. Majors, you'll need to get your battalions raised and shifted here as quickly as possible. We need to have the regiment organized, equipped and standing ready to leave Ath by Falltide."

The officers were stunned with disbelief. That was only three months.

Eventually Major Rhoda asked, "Colonel, where are we bound?"

Morrigan glanced out of the window then looked at the officers, "I do not know specifically, but generally speaking we are headed to the Heart of Emptyness. What I do know, is that we will travel the God-Emperor's vast void and make planetfall on worlds we've never heard of. Have no illusions, we will do battle with the Foes terrible and unknown, and some of us will die. However, the right of the Golden Throne to rule that blighted sub-sector will be ours to enforce, and we will enforce it. The Emperor Protects, ladies."

**::::**

The freezing winds blew in and ice floats had begun drifting down from the arctic latitudes. Wintertide had arrived on the islands of the Urahag Sea. Arda Bellona looked up from the fence she was mending. She wiped a strand of black hair back into her hood and pinched her wide mouth shut. A few hundred feet away the slate grey sea heaved and bucked. Cold, bitter cold, wind from the sea blew across the rocky beach, over the horizontal sea grass that hugged the small bay, up across the barren moorlands and through the water-logged peat-bogs - inducing her dark eyes to tears. When it was not raining, the wind blew sea mist across the island. She had never known a day without wind or rain.

It was midday and already the darkness was closing in. The light of a few small fishing boats struggled into bay, baring the days catch. This time of year it would be redclaw crab or urahag shrimp. A large ship was docked at the pier of Orta Bay. A ship from the main islands, with dried fruit for the winter she hoped.

Looking back down, she finished fixing the razor wire to the wooden post. A few of the villages stunt-grox had escaped recently and she'd spend days chasing them across the peat-bogs. If it had happened in the winter, she would have lost them, and spring would have been hard without their meat to eat and hides to sell.

Bellona walked down the wire-line, tugging to see if it would hold. Satisfied the wire would last the season she packed her tools away and slung her bag over her shoulder. Nearby a large, flightless bird squatted on the heather, pecking at the plants within reach.

Her struthoid looked up and started to rise, but Bellona waved a hand and it remained low. She walked up, patted it on the head and neck, took hold of its reigns and untied them from a post. She climbed into the small saddle, tucking her legs under its tiny wings and clicked her tongue.

The struthoid rose up onto its long, scaly and powerful hindlegs. Bellona rocked back and front comfortably.

She clicked her tongue again, tugged the reigns, and turned for home.

From the moors she turned onto a small muddy trail, which took her to the road of loosely laid stones. The struthoid clucked softly to herself and her wide feet made almost no noise as she strutted down the lane. On the far side of the island, the tiny seaside village of Cababhas was were Bellona made her home. Her small cottage was tucked up against a large crag and was made of blackstone walls, capped with a roof of turf. The ragged hill provided some protection from the constant cold wind.

Alongside her cottage was small enclosed pen for her three struthoids and a fenced in paddock for the stunt-grox. A small vegetable patch grew along the southside of her yard.

Riding up to her fence, she dismounted and opened the gate, leading the struthoid into the coop. In the warm, acidic stink of the coop Bellona unsaddled her mount and feed her a handful of pellets from the feed bin.

From their nests the other struthoids clucked happily.

Bellona stood outside her door, looking down the lane to the grey sea. The village's other small cottages were tucked into the crag. Mha t-Orta was small island, three miles by two. Overhead, there were endless rolling grey clouds. The ground gave little, being all but untillable, black stones pushed their way through the drab green and dull brown of the moors and peat. Her home was a daunting and dreary place to live.

Opening the door she stepped in. The storm shutters were open and weak greylight revealed the interior of the cottage. It was one large room, dominated by a peat-burning oven in the center, a bed and baby cot near the stove. An eating table, store cupboards on the right side of the room and sofas, low tables, bookshelves and a fireplace to the left. It was dry and warm and smelled of home – peat smoke, seafood, onions. Bellona smiled and took a seat on the stone bench alongside the door. With a heave she pulled off her grox-hide boots and oiled waterproof jacket.

"Cray, Laip?" Bellona called out.

"Arda?" called a voice, distant and quiet. "We're in the cellar."

She nodded and finished pulling off her wet clothes and then draped them on the rack near the oven.

Having a look through the cupboard she pulled out some tubers and butter. Cutting the tubers she smeared butter along the surface of the starchy plant. She quick shoved it into her mouth. Chewing she looked around the cottage, noticed some paperwork on the table.

Flipping through them she came across a manila colored envelop, baring the official seal of Ath. It was addressed to her;

_Arda I. Bellona_

_Cababhas,_

_Mha t-Orta,_

_North Croir Archipelago,_

_Urahag Sea Collective_

She traced her fingers along the stamp-marks. They showed the letter's path of travel - from the planetary capital of Ath far in the southern hemisphere, to the far northwest sea of Urahag, then to her local archipelago. Further on, the letter traveled to her small island near the arctic circle, then finally reached her tiny village. From the date stamps it had taken more than a month to reach her.

Putting aside her food she stared that seal. Only two things came of Athholm. Neither filled her with hope, while one was extremely unlikely, the other filled her with complete terror. Just seeing the envelope made her hands tremble.

The thumping of boots sounded and Cray's head emerged from the cellar door. She looked round and saw Bellona, she smiled. Cary had the opposite of Bellona's dark looks; her light hair, red cheeks and bright eyes made her look like spring.

Cray climbed out and closed the floor-door with a bang. The young child in her arms squealed happily at the sound.

Cray cooed at the baby, "That was a big noise, eh! Bang!"

Bellona walked over and kissed the child. Then kissed Cray. "How's my girl?"

"Fine, very playful today," Cray said, then tickled the baby, "Aren't you, you little struty-bird."

Bellona watched them quietly, and after they stopped playing she asked, "You see the letter?"

Cray looked at Bellona with face of worry and pain, "Yes, Arda, I saw it."

Bellona looked down and flipped the letter around, thinking. Cray took her hand and led her to the sofa. She settled her down and passed Laip to her. "I'll make some tea," Cray said.

Bellona held her daughter and bounced her up and down, her love for her daughter overcoming her early fear. Laip was nearing a year old, almost able to walk on her own. She squeaked and muttered consistently as she experimented with speaking. Her hands and feet were large, she'd be tall and long-limb like her mother. They also shared the same dark hair and dark eyes, pale freckly skin.

At present she looked nothing like the father, which pleased Bellona to no end.

Thinking of the _father_ brought the fear back. She set Laip down next to her and looked at the Aquila hung on the far wall, above the small Imperial shrine. "Please, _please_ …" she whispered in fear.

Cray returned with tea and salt-cakes. They sat in silence for a long time, Bellona watching the steam float away from the tea, Cray watching her intently, holding her hand tightly.

Eventually Bellona asked, "Should I run?"

Cray sighed, "Arda … where would you go? They'd send Enforcers after you. They'd take Laip away from me."

Bellona looked at her daughter, then at her partner. She loved them both, more than life itself, but she was so afraid of what the letter might say that she seriously considered running into the moors, taking a boat to one of the thousands of other islands on Ath.

"Do we open it? We could just say we never got it," Bellona said.

"Arda, they knew it got here, the post-mark confirms it," Cray said

"Damn it Cray! Help me! I don't want to do this! Not again! Not ever again"

"Arda, Arda!" Cray said, grabbing hold of Bellona's face, holding it tight she said, "You know what happens if you ignore that … _abomination_."

Little Laip, feeling the tension, started crying. Bellona snatched her up, held her tight, tears sprung to her eyes. She looked helplessly at Cray.

While she wiped a tear away Cray said, "Don't open it, wait for me to come back."

"Where you going?" Bellona asked as Cray rushed to the door, pulling on boots and a rain-coat.

"Just wait for me," she replied and pulled open the door.

For dinner they ate freshly caught crustaceans, along with root veg pulled from the garden. They also had a bottle of wine, a rare commodity. It had cost them a large portion of their savings, but Cray was determined to make this night special.

After the meal and when Laip was in her cot the two women sat quietly by the stove. Cray pulled open the hatch and threw in a peat block. Then she topped up the glasses of wine.

"Now," she said, leaning back in her chair, "Now you open it."

Bellona stood up and fetched the envelope. Sitting back down by the stove, she held it, glaring at the marks.

"I can't," she said softly, "You do it." She passed her partner the letter.

Cray took it and held like it as if it was toxic or deadly by merely existing. Bellona watched her closely.

Taking a deep breath, Cray opened the envelope slowly, carefully. She slide out the letter and unfolded it tentatively.

As her eyes moved down the letter, her mouth slowly frowned and continued to frowned further.

"What is it?" Bellona asked.

Once she finished reading Cray looked up at her with a bewildered and confused look. "I don't know, it's not … it's not …"

Bellona took the letter and read it quickly. Now she understood Cray's confusion. It was summon, but not the type she had expected, the one that filled her with such dread.

"Did I read that right?" Cray asked in a small voice.

"Yes," Bellona said, confused yet relieved, "I'm being called up to active duty?"

**::::**

In the scholem gymnasium of Orta Bay Primary thirty-five women stood, chatting and waiting. They wore grey-green uniforms of hardwearing fibercloth, black grox-hide boots, and knee-high canvas brown gaiters. A large pile of military issue bags sat in one corner. A winter storm thundered overhead, the building groaned under the onslaught of rain and wind.

Bellona walked brusquely into the gymnasium and shouted at the top of her voice, "Assemble ranks and stand at attention!"

The chatting stopped and the women rushed into two lines, standing stiffly. Bellona stood at the end of the first line. She was noticeably taller than others. A moment later a military officer strode into the space.

The officer pulled off her hat and rainslicker, shaking the wet off of both she put them to the side. After clearing her throat she said, "Sergeant Minor, report."

"Mha t-Orta Auxiliary Militia all present and accounted for, ma'am," Bellona said sharply.

"Good," she said and turned to face the assembled women. They got a good look at her. Short, but well built with wide hips and a straight back, dark brown hair and eyes. "I am Lieutenant Hera Juturna from Crantacch. I'm here to collect you. You're no longer island militia, you're now members of His Glorious Imperial Guard."

The women of Mha t-Orta were rushed from the scholem through the rain and darkness to the town's small armory. The custodian had been roused and she waited, sleepy and bored behind the desk. Juturna talked with her and signed half a dozen data-slates. After ensuring the datawork was complete the custodian led them through a series of heavy blast doors and down into the vault.

"Ma'am," the custodian said, "Take only what you're authorized to, I'll be doing an inventory check after you're gone."

"Will do," Juturna said, looking at the racks of weapons. The custodian nodded and left. "Sergeant, see to it," she held out a data-slate.

"Ma'am," Bellona said, taking the slate, looking closely. "Down your bags and form a line. Sirona come with me."

A woman step forward and followed Bellona to a nearby rack. "Pass them out, call out serial numbers."

"Yes, Sergeant," she replied.

They worked quickly. Firstly, Sirona passed out helmets, and then plucked lasguns from the racks, six power cells each. Then she handed out laspistols, bayonets, mirco-beads, gasmasks, flak vests, combat webbing, and dozens of other items - all the while calling out serial numbers to Bellona. The sergeant took meticulous notes.

The soldiers quickly collected their personal weapons and equipment and gathered into ranks. Once they were all there, Bellona called out, "Armor up."

She pulled on her flak vest and spent some time getting the straps tight and comfortable. The carbon-fibre chest plate and shoulder guards were matte-black and unadorned. She'd have to paint her unit and rank stripes on later. Bellona clipped on her combat belt and pulled up the shoulder straps of her combat webbing. They all spent a few moments fiddling with straps, Bellona included. Clicking the chest stays together, she tucked items into pouches and pockets.

"Helmets on, make sure they fit nice and tight."

The soldiers slipped on the heavy, dull black mark IX's. They had adjustable cradles for a tight fit and flared sides for comfort while wearing gasmasks. Additionally, the chin strap integrated wide cheek-guard, for comfort and protection.

When she was finished she shouted, "Present arms." The soldiers pulled their lasguns off their shoulders and snapped them across their chests.

"Your weapons, ladies, are the first and most important part your kit. You're blessed with mark IV Accatran in your hands. The bullpup design makes for easier maneuverability and lighter weight, the power cell is good for fifty shots. You can go at it with single, semi-auto or full. You've all done this before, so let's not act like a bunch of little girls, eh?"

Some chuckled. "Right," Bellona said, looking at her data-slate, "You all have your personal effects, now I want Sirona, Brigantia, Antu to get those heavy bolters, and Nanna, Osha, Sophia get the tri-pods. Korsika, Adella, Hnoss get the mortars, Ingalls, Blume, Ninlul get the mounts. Soran, Tack, Vispa get those lascannons down. Uzza, Hardsea, Brontela get their tri-pods. Ishara, get a vox-caster."

The nineteen women set to collecting the items. Bellona thought there might have been a mistake. She walked over the lieutenant, who sat on the steps working on another dataslate.

"Ma'am," Bellona said, "quick question."

"Yes Sergeant," Juturna said, looking up.

"That's a lot of firepower we're collecting. We're stripping the armory bare. Is that right?"

"It is, Bellona. We've been assigned as a company's heavy weapons platoon. We're gonna need it."

"We're lacking in numbers."  
"The platoon will be brought up full compliment once all the out-island militias have been collected."

Bellona thought about that for a moment and said, "I'll have the platoon assembled in a few minutes, you want to speak with them?"

"I will, yes."

"Ma'am," Bellona said and returned to the soldiers.

Some of the women were fussing over the heavy weapons, other chatting softly. Bellona waved them quiet and looked at them all.

They were not fearsome, nor terrible to behold. Just women – plain-faced, short and thin women from a lonely, hard island. Most were fisherwomen or stunt-grox raisers, peat-cutters or hideworkers. There was no warrior's attitude amongst them, nor did they have the dead-eyes of seasoned killers. Though all served one week a month as town guards and three weeks a year playing at soldier on one of the big islands, but they were not soldiers.

Not like the lieutenant, with her hard face and cold eyes. That said, these women did possess a steady bearing and hardiness of spirit that was hard to explain. Only another woman would understand where their inner strength came from.

"Bayonets!"

The soldiers pulled their rifles off the shoulders, pulled out their blades, snapped them to the lug under the barrel.

"Blade defense!" Bellona shouted.

The women yelled loudly and stabbed their blades forward, holding them out to impale imagery enemies.

Bellona nodded, "All yours, Lieutenant."

Juturna strode up and looked them over. In her early thirty, she was lifer in the planetary defense force and had seen soldier's everyday of her adult life. The offworld trainers that had seen her through officer training had been fearsome, terrifying _men_ – scarred, angry giants with steelhearts and ironhands.

After them, these women did not look like much at all. Suddenly, an old saying of her mother's came to mind. These women looked like nothing more than _lambs dressed up as mutton_. She took a quick glance at Bellona. The sergeant was no better, only a little older perhaps, hence her rank, but still thin and frail looking. She had haunted eyes that spoke of a dark past.

She briefly wondered what it might have happened.

"Ladies," Juturna said, putting her thoughts aside, "The Second Ath Regiment welcomes you to Love Company."

The assembled women glanced quickly at each other.

"Now, get your kit up and you'd better _run_ your asses down to the pier."

After a moment's pause, Bellona stepped up, "You hear the Lieutenant, _move_!"

**::::**

The hard wind blew curtains of freezing rain as the women ran from the armory to the pier. There a heavy ferry sat in dock, illuminated by stark white lights. The heavy weapons platoon trotted up the ramp and into the cargo hold. It was cavernous space that smelled of paint, grox musk, and fuel fumes. Clusters of other soldiers were strung out across the hold.

"Sergeant, see that the girls are settled in then report to me," Juturna said.

"Yes ma'am. Where can I find you?"

"They've converted some of the lounges on the aft fourth deck into officer's quarters, ask for me there."

"Ma'am," Bellona said and saluted. The officer turned and took a flight of stairs above.

Bellona looked around, then shouted, "Alright girls. There," she pointed to an area below a large flashing deck lamp, "there, is where I want you all get yourselves sorted and settled in. Keep it tight, keep it together. Kit inspection in an hour."

The platoon settled down under the light and began servicing the personal weapons and the heavies. Bellona tossed her pack down and laid her lasgun over it, her helmet too. A siren wailed, hydraulics groaned, and the ramp closed slowly. After a few minutes the low rumble of engines sounded and the ferry moved sluggishly out of Orta Bay.

After making sure everyone was settled Bellona set off to find Juturna. Sirona watched the sergeant exit the hold, then turned to Nanna, her tripod-bearer, and not recognizing her introduced herself, "I'm Teal."

"Calla. You alright humping the big gun?"

"Should be fine, I'm a stevedore, and this doesn't weight half as much as blackfins."

"_Was_, you mean," said a women next to her, polished a heavy bolter.

"What was that, Iceni?" Sirona asked, twisting around to look at the women.

"Was, Teal," Brigantia said, "You're not a pier worker anymore. You're a guardswomen."

"To right, I am," Sirona replied proudly.

Bellona walked the length of the large ferry, wandering about. She asked for directions and was directed to the officer's quarters. She found Juturna in a small, curtained off area, sitting at a table staring into space.

"Sergeant Minor Bellona, reporting as order," she said and saluted.

Juturna looked around slowly, returned the salute and said, "Sergeant, henceforth you should carry your rifle with you at all times. You're a Guardswomen, you need to look the part. Follow me." Juturna stood up and lead Bellona up a level and onto the top deck. Standing there the freezing air turned their breath to mist.

Juturna asked, "How old are you Bellona?"

"Twenty-eight, standard."

"How long you've been in the militia?"

"Ten years. Ma'am, may I ask how long you've been an officer?"

Juturna said, "You may. Also, when it's appropriate I want you to call me Hera, please. We'll be working together for some time to come."

"Hera, alright. I'm Arda," Bellona stuck out her hand at the officer. Juturna took it and shook it firmly.

"I've been an officer for nine or ten years now, Arda," Juturna said. She looked up at the much taller women and smiled slightly, "Today's my birthday. I turned thirty today."

"Happy day of birth, Hera."

The officer's smile dropped and she said, "Arda, today could quite possible be the worst day of my life."


	3. Lovers

**Two  
****Lovers**

**::::**

"_Hurry up and wait."  
_-Guardsman's traditional summation of the process of deployment

**::::**

Lieutenant Juturna was charged by her superior officer, Captain Zacy Epona to collect the militias of the North Croir Archipelago, a vast area occupying nearly ten thousand square kilometers which ran east to west just below the arctic circle. The last permanently inhabited island of the chain was simply called Far Island. When their militia came aboard, all six of them, the ferry turned southeast and set course for the local sea capital, Three Mountain Island.

It took a month to collect the nearly two hundred strong militias and when those arrived on the ferry they were kept busy. Juturna was a firm believer that physical training was the first step to being a good soldier. In the big cargo hold the lieutenant and her few sergeants were busy running the women through their paces.

"Standby," Juturna called out, putting her whistle to her mouth. Bellona readied herself on one knee, beads of sweat ran down her face. She put her hands on the set-up heavy bolter. Next to her private Osha waited, eager to run.

Beside them, next to their own heavy bolter was Sirona and Nanna, the teams glanced at each other aggressively.

"Come on, Osha, let's show those crab-faces who's the best," Bellona encouraged. Osha nodded and growled.

Juturna blew hard on the whistle.

Bellona reached over the weapon and grabbed it with both hands. She pulled it up, and pushed off the ground with a grunt. Cradling the heavy weapon close to her chest, the tall women turned and ran down the cargo hold. Osha grabbed the tri-pod and pulled the collapsing handle, snapped the device shut and raced after Bellona.

Those guardswomen standing along the length of the hold shouted and cheered. From the corner of her eye Bellona saw Sirona pull up alongside her. Bellona pushed herself hard, pumped her long legs, though they were not enough to edge her ahead.

"You're too old, sergeant!" Sirona jeered over her shoulder, as she passed.

"Osha!" she shouted, ignoring Sirona's taunts. For behind her the Private panted her reply, "He … _ee_ … re."

Kit bags had been laid out, creating obstacles for the women to run over or around. While the shorter Sirona and Nanna slowed to step over the bags, Bellona with a yell, used her long legs to leap fully over the bulging bergens. That gave her a meter lead on Sirona. Whistles and cat-calls greeted her extravagant move.

Nearing the end of the hundred meter long hold they had taped two large X's where the heavy bolters where to be set-up. Bellona skidded to a halt, face red and arms burning from the heavy bolter's weight, and dropped to one knee. Osha threw herself to the metal deck, snapping open the tri-pod quickly. Bellona dropped the thick mount-pin into the center hole. She just managed to snap back the weapon's slide a second before Sirona snapped hers.

"Bellona, Osha wins!" shouted Sergeant Ro'o.

The four women stood up and breathed hard before they exchanged words of threat and encouragement. They stepped back from the weapons as four other sweaty women stepped up them, taking their places. Ro'o waited until they were set, then shouted, "Ready, Ready … Go!"

The new four took the weapons apart, heaved them up and raced back down the other side of the cargo hold, while a group of four new women carrying mortars and mounts, raced directly towards Bellona and the three. They finished their run and set-up the mortars. Korsika and Ingalls won by a lead of six seconds.

The sweating, panting mortar-women stepped back from the freshly erected heavy mortars, and Bellona and her team stepped up to them, still breathing hard from their previous run.

"Osha, you take the mortar this time, I'll take the mount," Bellona said.

"Yes, sergeant," private Osha replied.

"Ready, ready … Run!" shouted Ro'o.

And so it went, in groups of four the Ath women ran and carried their heavy weapons back and forth across the metal deck for hours.

The training had ended for the day and the women had washed up, eaten, prayed and retired to their sleeping bags. If a far corner, Bellona sat up with two of the other sergeants, chatting over cups of hot water with honey.

"What do you all think of our Lieutenant?" Ro'o asked them. She was an older women, gray-haired with big strong shoulders and hands like weathered steel.

Meehen answered first, "A big island tight-ass. You see the way she looks down her nose at us Out Island girls."

Bellona smiled and put aside her armor. She had finished painting on her markings, three off-white chevrons over her specialty indicator - 'G' for gunner. She said, "I don't know about that. I think she'll do right by us. From what she's told me, she's done some time on a Navy ship. She's even fired a gun in anger, which is more than any of us can say."

"And what," Meehen replied hotly, "You think that makes me less able?"

"I think it makes her the ripper-shark and you, a wet little fishy," Bellona said.

Ro'o grunted, "I agreed with Arda. She's alright."

Meehen said, "Of course you're with Arda, when aren't you? You two are thick as thieves. Just because I got my third strip a few months ago doesn't mean I'm dumb."

Ro'o titled her head slightly, "I think that's debatable." Suddenly her eyes flashed over Bellona's shoulder and she coughed slightly, "Lieutenant," she greeted.

"Evening ladies," Juturna said. "You should get some beauty sleep."

"Yes, ma'am," Ro'o said.

Juturna stood watching them for a long moment, then added, "We put into Three Mountain in the morning. From there we'll take a plane to Atholme. Some of the girls here will be transferred to other companies." She looked over her shoulder and rows of sleeping women. "Whatever deficiencies we are left with will be made up from incoming personnel, you three will be busy getting them inducted."

"That doesn't make any sense," Meehen said.

"Oh?" Juturna replied.

"Yes, ma'am. We've been training together for years. We're better off as the team we are now, not with a bunch of nobodies we don't know."

Juturna nodded and stared at the young sergeant. She asked, "What if the entire company is wiped out?"

Meehen looked confused for a moment, than glanced at Ro'o and Bellona for support.

"Look at me, Sergeant Minor, I'll tell you," Juturna said, a slight edge to her voice. "If that were the case, North Croir would lose every woman they put forth. The best and most able the Archipelago has to offer, all dead, all at once. Those Islands would be devastated. If you mix up the militias, that at least gives the Collectives a chance of seeing some of their girls again."

After long moment of silence Meehen muttered, "Yes ma'am."

"You understand," Juturna said, addressed the three, "people will die. It is your job to make sure we maintain our fighting readiness, regardless of loss. Women like you are backbone of this Regiment, our success, or our death, is in your hands."

With that the officer turned away and exited the cargo hold.

Meehen snorted, "No pressure then."

Bellona frowned, Ro'o shook her head.

**::::**

When the ferry put into port the sun had barely broke the horizon, the heavy low clouds kept much of the light from reaching residents of Three Mountain. The woman assembled in the cargo hold, bergens on their backs, weapons hung from straps, heavies and mounts hoisted up on shoulders. Once the hold door was opened, Juturna marched them three kilometers to the aerostation. The few people out at that time of the morning turned to silently watch them walk past.

They were then marched up a flight of stairs and into an aeroliner. Sleek and silver, with black strips running along the fuselage, the aircraft resembled a flying fish. The sergeants ushered the women into their seats by squads and the women settled into the chairs. Many chatted happily, excitedly - most had never flown before. A few were terrified and gripped the armrest fiercely.

Bellona took a seat across the aisle for Ro'o. The older women asked, "Arda, you fly before?"

"Nope," Bellona replied, settling herself in her chair.

"Nervous?" Ro'o asked.

"Nope," Bellona replied again, wrapping her scarf around her long neck, "should I be?"

"Yes. Aeroliners crash sometimes."

Bellona smiled and said, "I don't worry about those sorts of things." She reached into her pockets, after a few moments she pulled out two things. One was a small silver Aquila. She kissed it as showed to Ro'o, "Reason number one. Faith. And this is reason number two, my lucky charm." She showed Ro'o a photograph of her child.

Ro'o looked at the child, then back to Arda and frowned sadly for a moment. She said hastily, "Very pretty."

The craft bumped a little as it towed to the runaway. Bellona put her hand on her stomach. She looked at Ro'o briefly. The old women grinned.

Suddenly, with unseemly haste Bellona reached under her chair and pulled out her helmet. She promptly vomited in it.

Ro'o cawed like a happy seagull. The private next to her shrilled, "Ah gross!" and flapped her hand under her nose.

A few seats ahead Juturna looked back briefly, then returned to reading her dataslate.

Bellona stood up and made to use the lavatory, but a short, well-dress flight attendant shouted at her, "Ma'am, please sit down."

"I need a cloth of something. I made a mess."

"Now, Ma'am," the flight attendant said fiercely. Bellona thumped back down, not wanting to feel the attendant's wrath.

The flight from Three Mountain to Atholm was a long journey. Two, eighteen hour flying segments were required and they sat on the runway of Dupha City for an additional ten hours due to bad weather. Not once were they allowed to deplane. All meals were served to them in their seats and the queue for the toilet was ten or twelve deep for most of the journey.

Eventually they walked off the plane at Atholm aerostation; stiff, grubby, and irritated.

**::::**

Bastion Hill was a huge fortress, the foremost Imperial stronghold of the planet. Lacking elegance it was a massive, brutal, simple citadel set high atop an extinct volcano. Shaped like a six-sided star, the heavy, stone curtain walls well angled steeply to deflect the momentum of incoming ordnance, and topped with saw-toothed crenelations. The barbican over the maingate was a small fortress in its own right. Soldiers, rifles at shoulders, paced the battlements. Teal colored flags with mermaid imagery snapped in the strong sea wind.

Morrigan stood at a window, hand holding the red brocaded curtain. She and her staff team had moved to larger, more opulent offices attached to the officer's apartments. The suite of offices appropriately reflected a woman of her standing, and the expectations of those coming to meet a woman bound for the stars. It overlooked the enormous central muster square, she watched a few hundred troopers march through the maingate and into the outer bailey.

"Who are they?" she asked Ting. The adjunct had been reading from a dataslate and looked up.

"Eh," she consulted her slate, "I'm not sure, Colonel. No one was scheduled for arrival this morning."

"That's not good enough, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll find out immediately."

"Don't bother. I know who they are." She looked at Ting, "Take a close look."

Ting leaned forward and tried to identify who they were. Unsuccessful she looked back at the colonel, she snapped head up attentively, "Apologizes Ma'am. I still don't know who they are."

"Those are the North Croir girls," the colonel said confidently.

"If the Colonel would so kind to explain how she knows that, I could learn something."

Morrigan smiled slightly, "Firstly, they have the look of Croirs'. A bit, oh, I don't know, fishy looking, you know what I mean?"

Ting looked again, not really seeing what the colonel was talking about.

The colonel continued, "More importantly, I recognize Lieutenant Juturna at the front there. She was sent to collect the militia's from that Sea, hence how I know who they are."

Ting looked at the women at the head of the column. She thought, Morrigan must have eyes like a hawk! She looked back at the colonel.

Morrigan said sternly, "Pay attention to everything, Ting. Everything. Your life will depend on it." She paused for a moment to let the words, either advice or threat, take hold then returned to her desk. "Where were we?"

Ting coughed and looked down at her slate again. She said, "Ten-hundred, meeting with Sister Superior Nerlota in the chapel. Subject, the spiritual and moral well-being of the women when exposed to the dangers of the Xeno, the Heretic, and the Mutant. Eleven-thirty lunch with the Queen. Thirteen-thirty …" Ting coughed nervously. She had looked at the day's schedule half a dozen times already and every time she saw the time slot she gulped nervously. "Thirteen-thirty, introduction of Commissar Cronus."

Morrigan opted to meet Cronus is the Solarium. The great room had a pleasant, warm atmosphere with vast windows overlooking the rear of the citadel and the island's wild inlands. She stood with three of her most senior officers, Majors Orma, Cossa, Rhoda and her chief medical officer Doctor Orphea.

She was nervous. Meeting your commissar _should _be nerve-wracking, she thought, that's the whole point. She knew nothing of hispast, except the few small notes Ting managed to dig up. His past, she thought, a _man_ in charge of the morale of regiment of women. Morrigan had requested a female commissar, twice in fact. However, the Munitorium sent Cronus.

Commissar Cronus had graduated from the famous schola progenium, St Tresso's, on Dion. From there, he went to serve as a junior commissar with a regiment from Sanctum Cloud, near the edge of the Trident Supercluster. Ten years later he received his first post as senior commissar with a regiment from Ruthsum. He stayed with them for over twenty years until their unfortunate demise during the Battle of Haribo Sands on the blighted beaches of Ougo'gogo. As one of the few survivors he returned to St. Tresso's to teach for a few years before being reassigned to Ath.

This was his first posting in half a dozen years and that worried Morrigan more than the fact that he was _he_.

"Easy, boss," Orma said from next to her.

Morrigan looked at her. The major was dressed in her number one dress uniform, they all were. Grey-green and pressed to perfection, ribbons bars and award pins neatly clustered on left breasts. Morrigan smirked, "You know Cronus is a man, right?"

Orma nodded and said, "Doesn't make a difference."

"Oh?" Morrigan inquired.

Major Rhoda answered, "The best man for the job ..." she started, then all four women said in unison, "... is a woman." They all laughed and the invisible tension left the room for a moment. The ornately carved wooden door opened and Ting walked in. She nodded to them and then announced loudly, "Presenting Commissar Cronus."

The man walked through the door like an angry thunderhead. Tall and powerfully built he was dressed in the traditional uniform - head to toe in black, glory-gold buttons, and a blood red sash.

"Looks like a Judge of the Drowned," muttered Orphea, referring to the old Ath legend regarding the finicky water spirits that determined a downing woman's place in the afterlife.

"Hush," Morrigan hissed.

Cronus stomped up and eyed the women from under his heavy brow. Up close he looked like a wild bull-grox; apishly strong arms, a torso packed with big, heavy muscles, a neck thicker than his head. He had an unlit cigar rammed between his teeth. The commissar reeked of brutish masculinity.

"Commissar," Morrigan said, "Emperor's blessing and welcome to Ath."

"Colonel," he grunted from the side of his mouth, nodding briefly.

"Allow me to introduce my command staff. Major Orma, chief of headquarters. Major Cossa, head of supply and logistics, and Major Rhoda, head of the combat battalions. Finally, Doctor Orphea, my regimental medic."

Cronus took a moment to look each woman up and down. "Ladies," he grunted.

After a few moments of silence Morrigan spoke up, "Thank you, ladies. Give the Commissar and I the room."

The majors and the doctor saluted and left the Solarium. Morrigan and Cronus crossed to the huge windows. The commissar removed his stormcoat and death-head's cap and threw himself down into an overstuffed red leather chair. He lounged like a primitive beast - large, powerful, and angry.

"Drink, Commissar?" Morrigan asked.

"Frak yes," Cronus replied, staring out of the window. Morrigan fetched two glasses and a bottle of aged amasec. She sat opposite the commissar and poured a measure into each. She glanced up briefly and eyed the grim political officer. The man sat glowering out the window looking like an aged oak tree. He had little hair on his head, and what he did was nearly white, by contrast his skin was sun-browned and lined with deep wrinkles. She poured herself an extra measure. Deep down, she had a feeling that this conversation was going to be unpleasant.

She offered up the glass to him.

"Frankly Colonel, I find it an insult to be assigned to a unit damned girls," he said, not looking at her, not taking the glass.

"Women, actually," Morrigan instantly replied.

Cronus's black eyes rolled slowly to meet her own. He grunted and looked back out the window. He said softly, almost to himself, "A man of my standing, my history. Sent _here_ …"

Morrigan said, "Don't worry Commissar the feeling is mutual. I didn't ask for you, I don't want you.

Cronus looked back at her, an eyebrow raised at the brazen words.

"I wanted a female Commissar."

Cronus nodded, finally taking the offered glass. He knocked it back in one, and wiggled it for another. "So," he said, "How do we do this?"

"Excuse me?"Morrigan said, pouring another.

"I will discharge my duties as the edicts and regulations of the Imperial Commissariat requires. But, I can tell you Colonel, my heart isn't in it."

Morrigan leaned back in her chair, sipping her drink. They stared at each other for a long moment then she finally said, "It's not your heart I'm interested in, it's your balls."

Cronus barked loudly, "You've spirit, girl, I'll give you that!"

"Furia, please."

Cronus leaned forward and stuck out his huge hand, "Castle."

**::::**

Juturna lead her troop into the vast underground barracks. She reported to the clerk and was directed to a floor and section. At a wave, the women marched by and down into the dimly lit basements. Torches held in sconces burned brightly, but what light they threw was absorbed by the dull blackstone and draperies. The basements smelled of sweat, smoke, incense, boot polish and bleach.

They trooped down two levels and reached their allotted section. Juturna noted that some of the bunk beds were already occupied. Women she did not know looked up at her. She called out to the women she did, "Settle in and get cleaned up and dressed for mass. Thirty minutes. Wait, stow that. At attention!"

An officer dressed in high, dark boots and grey-green fatigues with the sleeves rolled tightly to the biceps walked up. "Lieutenant."

"Captain Epona," Juturna saluted. "Reporting for duty."

Epona returned the salute and said, "Nice to see you again, Hera. I've a list of transfers, see to it."

"Ma'am," she said, taking a printed sheet from Epona. She turned and called out a list of names and what sections they were to report to. Half of the women from North Croir marched off into the depths of the catacombs where thousands of other women lingered and lurked in the darkness.

Once the transfers were complete Captain Epona waved the women around her. They clustered close and she spoke loudly to be heard by all.

"Soldier's of the Imperium, listen up! Welcome to Love Company. You'll find that the three leaves of the Fleur-de-lis I wear on my collar stand for Work, Fight, Pray. You'll be doing plenty of each, my Lovers."


	4. Virgin's Blood

**Three  
****Virgin's Blood**

**::::**

"_Peace? There cannot be peace in these times_."  
-Lord Commander Solar Macharius

**::::**

In the southern hemisphere Falltide had begun. Thick, grey clouds hung like lumpy wool in the sky. In the ocean vast, uncountable schools of fish had started migrating from their antarctic feeding seas to the equatorial spawning grounds. Trawlers and fishing boats packed the seaport. The docks bustled with activity. The city was preparing for the first freeze and readied itself for another grueling Wintertide.

Above Atholm, a new star twinkled. A vast starship waited. The starport was open for business. Though not for the usual collection of fish and seafood. Enormous dark blue bulk landers sat waiting to collect a different tithe.

Five thousand women is full combat gear stood waiting on the rockcrete tarmac. Dressed in grey-green and black flak vests, they were as somber as the sky. Another two thousand young girls dressed in unadorned grey coveralls, stood off to the side.

The regiment's commander stood on a platform facing the armed and armored women. To Morrigan's left, her officers waited. To her right the regimental band played _March of the Primarches. _With the triumphant clash of cymbals and deep thunder of bass drums the song ended. No one moved or made a sound.

Morrigan stood at the podium, staring at the women before her. She raised a handheld microphone to her lips.

"Women of the Imperium, women of Ath," she started. "The stars await us. We leave here, likely to never return. Make peace with that."

At that moment, a ray of sunlight slipped thru the clouds, lighting the starport with a soft white glow. Morrigan looked up and smiled.

"An omen!" she shouted into the address system, her voice echoing off the nearby starport terminal building. "The God-Emperor smiles upon us! His light is upon you all now, in this every hour of our departure. The Emperor Protects!" she shouted

Five thousand voiced returned with a fervent, "The Emperor Protects!"

Once the echo had died down, Morrigan continued her speech, "The uniform you wear, the Mermaid on your patch, with her shield and her trident. She will make the difference between the freedom of the Imperium and its enslavement by the forces of darkness. Where we go, others will decree. The strategies, will be devised by others. The battles we fight, others will choose." She paused and looked out across the sunlit faces.

"The victory" she paused,"… the victory, will be yours."

**::::**

They marched into the bulk landers. The huge ships engines ignited and shook the earth. With a great rumble they lifted off, angled out to sea, and flew skywards. Ath sky-whales broke from the clouds and followed them to the upper atmosphere, bellowing their melodic songs. Even cocooned in the bellies of the metal starcrafts, the sky-whales ultrasonics rattled the diaphragms of the women. The crafts thundered into the silence of the void and were shortly swallowed by the city-sized starship, _Road to_ _Wotan._

There the women disembarked and for nearly all of them this was their first time in space. The docking bay was a large as some villages and clustered with unfathomable machinery and rang with industrial noise. One enormous wall was a translucent barrier, Ath spun slowly before their awe-stuck faces.

When the bellows of Navy officers weren't enough to get their attention, shoves and kicks directed them to their accommodation blocks, deep within the bowels of the starship. The grey-green war machines and other Ath heavy equipment were pulled out the transport crafts and stored even deeper in the ship. It would be many months before they were needed.

The accommodation blocks were enormous corridors deep in the center of the ship. Bunks hung by chains anchored to the ceiling and floor, six deep. A battalion of eight hundred women were assigned to each block. There was no day or night above a starship, only Day-Cycle and Night-Cycle, and they flicked by at Terran-standard twelve hour intervals. The cycles ticked by and life aboard a starship was exceedingly dull. The women were not allowed out of the accom-blocks except for exercise, weapons practice, prayer, and meal time. They knew nothing of where they going or with the continuously low-grade hum of plasma rectors never changing, the only way to judging time was by counting the cycles.

Only twice was there any indication of travel. Once, a few hours after they boarded the ship's tannory announced their entrance into the Warp, "Attention on deck, Warp transit commencing in three minutes, standby."

Hazard lights flashed for a few minutes, then the ship shock slightly. Then nothing more. Aside for some of the women complaining of nightmares and disturbed sleep patterns Warp travel was not noticeably different from standard space flight.

Colonel Morrigan took accommodation in one of the executive suits, high along the dorsal spine of the _Road to Wotan_. Even as a senior officer there was not a great deal to do. She started her day-cycle with a prayer and ablutions, followed by an hour of light exercise. After a wash she proceeded to read her morning reports, delivered by Ting while she was in the shower. Ting also laid out her day uniform.

Once dressed and fully briefed for the day she met with her officers and went over the daily schedule, addressed concerns, and dealt with grievances. Afterwards she had a quick conversation with Cronus regarding the latest infractions.  
Mid-day-cycle was more meetings; mostly with the battalion leaders, though sometimes company level, and even platoon grade officers. After lunch were classes; battle tactics were taught by Morrigan to her lesser officers and promising non-commissioned officers, other times, she attended and listened to experts in various fields details their craft. The colonel felt being locked up aboard a Navy vessel was a good time to 'train, retrain, and cross-train.' The latter half of her mid-day-cycle was spent at the ranges or drill-halls, seeing how her women were doing. Also, she liked to stay current with her lasrifle and laspistol and would take on any challenger, who was not already a markswomen, on the shooting range. The prize for beating the colonel was half-a-cycle pass to the rec-deck.

The day-cycle ended with debriefing, then dinner with the ship's Captain and his senior officers. Once she retired for the cycle, she had some quiet time to reflect, pray, and conducted another hour of light exercise before climbing into her bunk to sleep.

At the end of a day-cycle two week into the journey, Morrigan laid herself down. She was startled slightly when the ship's voice spoke through a gargoyle's mouth above the door. "Attention on deck, Warp translation in three minutes, standby."

She looked at the gargoyle, willing more information out of its stone mouth. When none was forth coming, she reached over to her bedside table, picked up notepad and pen and started making notes for tomorrow's lessons.

She chewed on the end of her pen for a moment. The ship shook slightly, rattling a picture frame on the bedside table. It was of a fish larger than the young girl holding it up.

She finished her thoughts and wrote out the essentials of military operations; _objective (direct every Imperial operation towards a clearly defined, decisive and attainable objective), offensive (seize, retain, and exploit the initiative for the Imperium), mass (concentrate Imperial power), economy of force (allot minimum essential Imperial power to secondary efforts), maneuver (place the enemy at the disadvantage through flexible application of Imperial power), unity of command (every objective under one responsible, faithful, Imperial commander), security (never permit the enemy to acquire an unexpected advantage), surprise (strike at an unexpected time, place, or manner), simplicity (clear, concise, uncomplicated orders and plans)_ and finally _faith (only through the Will of the Emperor are all things possible). _She picked up an old tatty book, _Strategoes Imperious_, and compared her thoughts to the philosophies within.

A small bell chimed. She looked at the chrono, 2330. She put aside her notes, stood and pulled on her dressing robe.

She approached the suites mainhatch and tapped the button. The hatch slide open silently and her aide stood there. The two guards standing by either side of the hatch were stiff at attention.

"Ting?"

"Colonel, apologizes of disturbing you at this hour. Captain Eckles sends his compliments and wishes your presence on the bridge."

"I'm assuming this isn't one of those 'at my convenience' commands?"

Ting shook her head, "I don't think so, ma'am."

**::::**

The bridge of the _Road to Wotan_ was long, wide rectangle. Below a thin slice of meters-thick armaglass, cogitators and workstations ran along the forward wall. The captain's throne sat in the center of the bridge, lording over the specialists and lesser officers. The bridge was as busy as bee-hive; dozens of Navy personnel talked in hushed voiced over internal communication systems or compared data on scrolling print-outs.

Morrigan, dressed in her formals, was escorted onto the bridge by a polite sub-lieutenant and they approached a thin, towering, skeletal specimen standing at the window. The junior officer snapped his heels together and said, "Colonel Morrigan reporting, Captain."

The captain turned and nodded to the junior officer. Captain Eckles had a luxurious handlebar mustache and even at this hour looked resplendent in his flawless charcoal-grey Fleet Dion uniform, the gold piping shimmered in the dim lamplight, being made of real gold.

"Madam," Eckles said politely, "I know it's late, however a situation has arisen that requires your input."

Morrigan was surprised, the Captain was the lord and master of the space vessel and his word was above all laws, save the _Lex Imperialis_. He was not required, nor obliged, to seek her opinion, input, or assistance in any way. She stepped up to window, looking out into the vast dark void. There was no sense no depth, only a solid blackness broken by a million tiny specks of light.

"Anything I can do to help, just say it." Then she added, "where are we?"

"An empty plot of space called Gamma-Io-three-three-two, the nearest inhabited system is the Gose system." Eckles nodded to the void, "Out there, a vessel of the Wasp Sub-Fleet has disabled an enemy raider, however, they sustained damage and were unable to finish the task. They have requested us to board and secure the raider."

Morrigan ran her eyes across the armaglass, there was nothing out there, nothing.

"Now," Eckles said turning to her, "Ship to ship combat is a difficult task, full of peril. Normally, I would not ask the Imperial Guard to conduct such an action, especially, a unit like yours."

"Like mine?" she inquired, an eyebrow raised, "By that you mean women?"

The captain frowned slightly, his face disapproving, "No Colonel, I mean having no combat experience. The Imperial Navy sees no difference is sex. We are all servants of Emperor here."

Morrigan nodded, appropriately chastised.

Eckles continued, "My Master-at-Arms tells me I do not have the required _body_-ratioto secure the enemy vessel. I'm in need of a few thousand of your Guardswomen."

"A few thousand? Just how large is the vessel?"

Eckles's mustache twitched slightly, a hint of a smile. He said, "Colonel, you need to get out more," and waved his hand to a large tac-table.

**::::**

"How did you get those?" Calla asked Sirona. The young women had just sauntered to their fourth platoon's area, smiling happily, holding a basket of fresh fruit.

Sirona smiled, "From an Ensign."

"Oh?" Brigantia smirked, "and what did you have to do to get it?"

Sirona shrugged and said, "Let him feel my tits."

Ro'o replied cheekily, "Ohhh, I bet he felt more than your tits."

"I hope you washed your hands," Calla said and made a grossed out face.

"I hope you washed your mouth," Bellona said disapprovingly. She had her toes tucked under a heavy bergen and had been doing sit-ups. Everyone looked at her and the group went quiet. The sergeant glared at the young women from her bunk and said, "Avoid the males. Don't come into contact with them, don't speak to them. There is nothing worse than a man in uniform."

"I thought he looked handsome," Sirona said looking at the other young women, "Kinda like in the holo-vids."

"Shut up, you stupid girl. You don't know a thing, if I see any of you talking with anyone outside the regiment, you'll be sorry," Bellona said, then added softly, "You don't know what they're like."

Bellona looked at Ro'o. The old women looked back, her face saddened, though she said nothing.

From across the accom-block Captain Epona shouted, "Love Company!" Two hundred heads turned towards their captain. "Gather round, gather round!"

The women of Love Company got up and clustered around Epona and her lieutenants. The other companies were rushing into clusters as well. The entire battalion was on the move.

Once the company had gathered around, Epona looked at Bellona questioningly. The sergeant was wearing only her Guard issue underwear and vest top, and was sheened in sweat. Bellona saw the look and the captain's quick glance at her bare feet. She self-consciously said, "I was working out, ma'am."

Epona looked away disinterested and said, "Listen up, Lovers! You're to gear up and get ready to engage the enemy. You've less than an hour, get on with it."

The women turned and rushed back to their bunks, hurrying to get in their armor and equipment.

Bellona struggled quickly into her kit while the weapons platoon pulled out their heavy guns for a quick inspection before they suited up.

Epona and Juturna walked over, deep in an obviously unpleasant conversation. Epona waved her hand in a cutting motion and Juturna fell silent. The captain stared at her officer and nodded to the gun teams.

Reluctantly Juturna said, "Negative on the heavies ladies." Fourth platoon stopped what they were doing and look up as one.

"Excuse me?" asked Senior Sergeant Wren, the company's most senior ranking non-commissioned officer.

"You heard me, Senior, stand down the heavies. They're not coming with us. They can't, they're too dangerous."

"I believe that's the whole fookin' point," Wren grumbled.

Juturna nodded and said, "We're going over to a disabled enemy ship. Mortars can't be used on ships. The lascannons could punch holes through exterior bulkheads. The bolters too. To dangerous, they can compromise the integrity of vessel and all of us on board."

The platoon's Sergeant Major Gravitas Lily grumbled, "What we are supposed to fight with, Lieutenant, naughtily language? Or mayhaps I could distract them with my bouncy _tits _while Senior stabs them with her bayonet." Then she added with snarl, "We can bring our bayonets, right?"

"Watch it your tongue, Sergeant Major! You're speaking to an officer," Epona said.

Lily frowned and stepped back, "Excuse my outburst, ma'am. I'm just disappointed we won't be bringing the big guns on our first _fookin'_ action."

"Ladies," Epona said, giving Lily a sympathic look, "I know its shit, but orders stand. Lasrifles only. Gear up and get moving. It's time we showed them the Love."

**::::**

"Throne almighty," Sirona moaned, "Our first action and we don't even get to bring the big guns."

The company stood at parade rest before a gapping maw of a landing shuttle. They climbed aboard, a platoon at a time. Fourth platoon was last in. From the depths of the shuttle Epona's voice sounded, "About face!"

The two hundred women shuffled and rotated on the spot.

"Ahh, damn it!" Sirona muttered.

Bellona understood why she said that. A moment ago they had been facing into the shuttle, with nearly a full company between them, now, they faced the ramp, with only two rows of helmets between them and the exit. They would some of the first out of the shuttle and into combat.

Navy deckcrew scuttled back and forth in front of the ramp, minutes ticked by. Finally, someone nearby shouted, "Seal shuttles, standby for lunch."

The ramp hissed as it raised and with a soft hissing sound, sealed shut. There was a moment of darkness before the overhead lights flickered on. In the back ranks someone said something funny, and a muted chuckling passed through the women.

The shuttle's address system crackled and a man's voice said, "Standby for liftoff."

Bellona suddenly vomited against the bulkhead to her left. She spat a few times and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked at Ro'o standing down the line from her. The old women smiled at her.

Bellona shrugged and said, "Nerves."

The shuttle lurched slightly and before they knew it they were sailing through the void. Not that they could see it. Tight nerves tensed and pressure built quickly.

"I thought they would have had portholes, or something," someone said.

"It's not a luxury yacht, it's an Imperial Navy landing boat, you idiot," someone else replied

"Don't call me an idiot, you ugly faced bitch,"

"Who you calling a bitch?"

"Settle down," came Senior Wren's heavy voice. The sparing pair fell silent.

They had been traveling a few minutes when the shuttle jerked hard. The sudden maneuver threw the women around. Someone behind Bellona grabbed her pack and jerk her hard backwards.

In front of her Balsa muttered, "Ouh, Ouh," through clenched teeth.

Bellona righted her pack, grabbed Balsa by the shoulders and turned her around, "What's wrong?"

"I think I broke my hand, Sergeant," she showed her hand. The small finger was bent the wrong way.

"Medic!" Bellona shouted over her shoulder. The platoon's medic pushed her way through the women and took Balsa's hand in hers.

"What happened," Medic Eir asked, turning the damaged hand this way and that.

"I just leaned on it wrong," Balsa said, her face flushed with pain.

The medic nodded and said, "It's just your pinky finger. Grit your teeth a second." She then quickly grabbed the broken digit and reset the bone. Balsa yelped and tears ran down her cheeks. Eir quickly tied it to the ringfinger and padded her shoulder.

From the rear of the shuttle Epona shouted, "Everything alright over there?"

"It's fine, Captain," Bellona shouted back. "Private Balsa broke her finger. It's all sorted."

"Oh good, I would have hated to call off the invasion 'cause Private Balsa broke a fingernail."

**::::**

From the ship's bridge Morrigan could not see the enemy vessel, even though Eckles promised her it was out there. On the tac-table on the otherhand, all was visible. She stood at the table with Ting, Eckles and three of his officers.

The enemy vessel, _Victus Mea, _an aged Dauntless light cruiser turned pirate two decades previous drifted between the two larger Imperial ships, the heavily damaged Dominator class cruiser _Silver_ _Talon_ and Tyrant Class cruiser _Road to Wotan_.

The smaller enemy vessel had surprised the _Silver Talon_ with a false distress signal and sprung an attack when it came to investigate. However, it hadn't reckoned with _Silver Talon's_ fearsome broadsides. In the end the _Talon_ stood taller and crippled the _Victus Mea's_ primary engines, forcing it to halt, and depriving it of energy for its weapons batteries. That said the damage the _Talon_ took prevented if from seizing the raider ship, and instead it was forced to hail the nearest Imperial Navy vessel. _Road to Wotan_ and it's armsmen, and Guard substitutes, would finish what the _Silver Talon_ started.

Morrigan watched the first of the Navy landing boats drift away for the icon of the _Wotan_, each packed tightly with doughty Navy astrotroopers. It was a thirty-seven minute trip, and decreasing every minute as the cruiser powered in close towards its prey.

"Captain," Morrigan was said, "You have full command over my soldiers. Use them as you see fit. "

"Yes, Colonel," Eckles said with a nod. While she was required give up operational command of her regiment for joint-forces operations, she could have made it difficult for Eckles by insisted that he go through to relay orders. However, she trusted Eckles to know his business. He respected that.

The captain brought up a display of the enemy light cruiser, he said "Your first battalions are on standby-to-launch. They will enter here, and here, and here. I have kept them together, at the lower rear docking bays. They will have less area to cover that way. My vanguard teams will secure the bays and your Guardswomen will advance into the ship, in a three-pronged assault."

"Three prongs?"

Eckles looked unsure of the question.

Morrigan grinned quickly. Three prongs … the business end of a trident. That was a good omen. "Carry on, Captain," she said.

Eckles cleared his throat, "Their objective is the secondary engineerium. With their primary power plant disabled, fighting will be formidable there. There will be loses."

"Estimated duration of this operation?" she asked.

Eckles looked at his master-at-arms, the man nodded, "Three to six cycles, at most."

Morrigan nodded and touched the shield and trident bearing mermaid on her shoulder patch for luck.

**::::**

"Thirty seconds," the pilot's voice said.

"This is it, girls!" shouted Senior Wren, "Stand up for what's right! Shield and Trident! Throne and Emperor!"

"Throne and Emperor!" the company yelled back.

The shuttle jarred suddenly and the ramp slapped down. The women rushed out roaring, lasguns up and ready. They met the Imperial Navy.

In front of them stood a wounded senior petty officer, light-wand in hand. He waved them to the right and yelled, "Go that way! That way!"

The left side of the chamber was aflame. Navy men in grey coveralls and respirators were attempting to tackle the blaze. They had breached the enemy vessel at one of the rear docking bays. Navy pioneering teams had already arrived and after a quick, nasty las-exchange they secured the bay. Epona pushed her way forward and spoke with the Petty Officer. He directed her to a clutch of Navy officers holding a conference over a pile of maps and slates. Juturna direct the Ath women to rally points around the bay.

Fourth platoon was directed to a cluster of bullet scarred storage crates. Bellona directed her squad, securing the far side. As she stepped around the crates she stopped and looked down, her squad clustered up behind her.

A long row of dead navy armsmen laid side-by-side, clothes over their faces, their black boots pointing upwards. Bellona swallowed, and waved her women on.

She looked away from the dead and took a good look at the docking bay. There were two other Navy landing boats, ramps down, Ath women gathering to combat units near each. A good four or five hundred Guardswomen in total. She thought they might be Jewel or Kappa Companies. As Bellona watched a third shuttle, it closed its ramp and fired up its engines. The ship lifted off the deck and powered softly through the void-barrier.

A shout got her attention and she saw Juturna waving Fourth platoon through a large door.

Love Company was directed through a ruined set of blast doors and into a realm of red hazard lamps. The tight, metal corridors where littered with burned debris and limp bodies. As they advanced further and further away from the docking bay, squads and platoons were split up, sectioned off to secure areas.

"Seahorse One, to Seahorse All. Fourth Platoon with me," Juturna vox. They moved away from the main arterial corridors and into the secondary and tertiary gangways. The platoon's vox-operator, Ishara, stood close at hand with a data-slate held tightly. Her slate was being feed continuous updating data-feeds. Their directions dictated by the officers in the bay, and mech-technicians on cogitators hundreds of kilometers away through the void. Ishara directed the lieutenant with chopping hand gestures.

A short and squat navyman trotted noisily up from behind them, bold as brass straight down the corridor. He spotted Bellona's stripes and asked, "Where's your boss?"

Bellona spoke into her vox, "Seahorse One, Seahorse Six. A got a Navy man, he wants to talk."

"Six, One. Regarding?"

Bellona looked at the Navy man, "What do you want?"

The man looked at her oddly, then looked around at the other Ath women hunkered down in the corridor, "You must be the _girls_, eh?"

Bellona leaned over and looked down at the man, "What do you want, Petty Officer?"

The man looked up at her and padded the large satchel slung over his shoulder, "I'm Jox, a Sapper. You need any bulkheads or doors taken down, you give me a shout."

She voxed Juturna, "One, Six. The Navy has provided us with a Sapper."

"Good for them, don't let him get killed."

"Yes, ma'am" she replied, then said to the women next to her, "Iceni, watch this guy."

They walked for ten minutes, twenty, thirty and they saw no one. They checked the rooms they passed, no one. It seemed the ship was empty.

"Six, One," Juturna voxed, "Bring your Navy man up here."

"Copy," Bellona said, then muttered to herself, "He isn't _my_ man…"

The two moved up the line to the T-junction where Juturna, Lily and Ishara waited. The lieutenant waved them over.

"Ma'am," Bellona nodded.

"M_aaah_ lady," the navy sapper bowed extravagantly. When he stood up he was chuckling to himself.

"Petty, come with me," Juturna said, ignoring his behavior. She led him to the junction; there she delicately poked her head around the corner and whispered, "Blast doors."

The navy man just stepped out into the corridor, crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels. "Alright, I got just the thing," he stated and sauntered down the corridor.

"Fook," Juturna said, watching him walk away carelessly, rummaging through his satchel. "Bellona watch this corner, everyone else back!"

Bellona squatted at the corner and eyed the blast doors. The Navy sapper whistled a tune as he looked at the panel set beside the metal door. He flashed a thumbs-up at Bellona and shouted, "Atmo's fine on the other side!" From his satchel he pulled a melta-charge, and fitted the explosive device to the door.

As she watched the sapper work she slowly reached up and tapped her red-dot sight. A tiny red dot marked the ceiling. Behind her, a moment later two dozen more red-dots activated. The Navy man finished what he was doing and turned back, trotting quickly. He ducked around the corner and squatted beside Bellona, he shouted over his shoulder, "Fire in the hole," then chuckled to himself.

After thirty seconds there was a sharp flash of light, a dull roar, a whoosh of air, and a heavy crunch. The sapper looked at Bellona, "All yours." He turned and trotted down the line, safely tucked up the middle of the platoon.

Bellona looked back the lieutenant, who nodded for her to advance. She stepped around the corner and stepped cautiously towards the door, her lasgun aimed at the center of the steaming hole. The newly-formed gap was round and a meter in circumference, set at chest height. She could see machinery and flashing yellow hazard lights beyond.

As she reached the blast door she stepped to side of the hole and aimed her lasgun at an angle. Juturna stepped up beside her, crouched under the hole, squat-walked across to the other side of the hole. She stood up and angled her lasgun to cover Bellona's blindspot. Once the rest of the platoon had assembled, Bellona took a quick breath and stuck her lasgun, then her head, through the hole. Seeing nothing she lifted her long leg and stepped through the round hole.

Straddling the blasted hatch she paned her weapon around. It was huge chamber, with bizarre engines and machines she would never understand the propose of. Catwalks and gantries were suspended three or four meters from the ceiling. With the main lights out, the yellow emergency lamps glowed and blinked brightly, giving the chamber a bizarre, threatening atmosphere, flashing between hellish red and honey-sweet yellow. She pulled her other leg through and stepped quickly behind the nearest cover.

Ath women climbed cautiously through the hole and advanced into the chamber. Sergeant Major Lily step through and squatted next to Bellona. "Take the stairs, I know you don't have any heavies, but your squad can still cover us from the high ground," she said and pointed.

Bellona looked up the metal stairs. They angled steeply up to a wide, skeletal gantry. "Yes, Sergeant Major." She waved her squad to her and ran over to the stairs. As she placed a boot on the first metal step; a man stepped from a hatchway concealed by shadows.

He was confusing to look at with the strobing blood-red/bright yellow lighting, but there was no mistaking the shotgun in his hands.

Bellona raised her weapon, the tiny bright red-dot of her sight hovered over his chest. She put three shots in his torso.

The man grunted once, dropped his shotgun, and tumbled forward, clanking and thumping down the stairs. Bellona pressed herself to the railing as the body slide passed. It stopped, and laid still on its back. The face was that of an old man, well into his late fifties with week's worth of beard growth. The laswounds looked like black holes in the red-light.

Someone muttered, "First blood, Bellona."


	5. Siren Song

**Chapter Four  
****Siren Song**

**::::**

"_Preservation of life for its own sake is not to be commended where sacrifice offers a reasonable chance of gain. Non the less, the purposeless waste of life is equally to be avoided. The loss of trained personnel implies the loss of resources, equipment and knowledge. A true warrior does not belittle his value as a resource. The duty of the commander is to judge what means should be undertaken to achieve each objective. He must be aware of what is to be gained and what may be lost. A commander who places his troops in a position where he may likely lose more than he may likely gain risks more than the lives of his men. He risks far more: he risks failure. Loss is acceptable, failure is not_."  
-Tactica Imperium

**::::**

Eyes glanced upwards at sound of boots and figures appeared from the hatchway. A shotgun boomed. The women of Fourth platoon did not wait for orders, half scattered for cover while the other half unloaded with lasguns set to full-auto. They lit up the chamber with a five-hundred blub flashes, five-hundred whip-cracks overlapped. The lethal bolts tore into the gantry, leaving round holes of glowing metal, and the clustered men, shredding tumbled over the railing and fell to the deck.

Bellona threw herself over the stair's railings and took cover under them. While fire pummeled the hatch, she grabbed at her webbing and pulled a grenade. She took a step backwards and threw it hard.

It flew straight through the hatchway and there was a dull thump and white smoke started to drift from the hatch. After a moment a huge, thick cloud bellowed out. Confused, Bellona looked down at her webbing, her frag grenade was still attached.

"Damn it," she snarled and ran back towards a large engine assembly, throwing herself over it.

The women next to her look over and said, "Smoke grenade, Sergeant?"

Bellona shrugged and aimed her lasrifle at the smoke filled hatchway.

**::::**

Lieutenant Juturna and her command squad had advanced deep into the chamber and at the sound of the first shots she raced back.

She screamed, "Get to cover, get to cover!" at the women still standing in the open.

She raced towards them, pushing them away. She waved her hands around gesturing to locations. She yelled, "Find cover! Find cover! Secure the egress!"

From within the smoke cloud a shotgun flashed and boomed. Juturna she spun around violently, blood spraying from a arm. She twisted completely and slammed down on her back, screaming in pain.

Further shots boomed out, two blasting the officer with a hail of buckshot. The Ath's replied with a torrent of their own.

In the deluge of lasshot, Sergeant Major Lily dashed out and grabbed Juturna by a shoulder strap and dragged her behind cover. Bellona leapt out, grabbed the other, and assisted dragging the officer deep into protective cover.

Medic Eir was there moments later. Juturna was conscious and bleeding from a number of wounds. The worse was her right arm, it was nearly severed at the elbow. Her face was pale and she looked bewildered, shocked.

"Hera," Lily said, "Hera!"

The lieutenant moaned and muttered, grasping for Lily's hand, "… Gravitas … help me …"

"Easy Hera, Eir's here." The medic quickly started primary aid, wrapping a tourniquet the ruined arm at the shoulder and stuffing medical wads into bleeding wound holes. She worked methodically, but fast and professional. She would find a wound, clean it, stuff it, and slap a patch on it, then move onto the next one.

"She's bleeding out, Sergeant Major. Got to go," Eir said sternly.

"They're in the ducts!" Someone shouted nearby, and the women took aim at the dense network of ducts that hung over and around them. The thin metal skin was sieved with dozens of lasshots. Enemy grenades flew from the hatchway, exploding nearby, pinging shrapnel off metal machinery.

Lily glanced up, "Meeghan, your teams are to accompany Eir back to the Docking Bay. Get the Lieutenant some help. Go!"

Meeghan gathered her three lascannon teams together and four women took the poles of the collapsible stretcher and the rest form up ahead or behind the litter.

Eir pointed towards the hatch, "Come on, move!"

Lily grabbed Eir's arm, "Wait," she ordered, "Gut her."

Bellona and a few other Aths quickly took of any useful equipment from her pouches; ammo, laspistol, canteen, and first-aid kit. Once she was stripped Lily yelled, "Cover fire!"

Lasshots rattled off quickly; Eir waved them towards the exit. They womenhandled the litter through the hatch quickly and made it through without anyone shooting at them. Lily waited for them clear the hole then said, "Ro'o secure this point and keep our egress clear, Bellona come with me," Lily was in charge now.

The sergeant major scrambled back to the first line of heavy machines that acted as their cover. Taking a quick peek around she noted that fire was coming from two or three different angles.

"Bellona, that hatch is keeping us for advancing. I need to you get a squad up those stairs and seal it off. I'll take two squads and see if I can pin down those other firepoints," Lily said, then with a slap on the shoulder she added, "Get to." With her head down, she ran further down the main line of resistance shouting orders, vox-trooper Ishara racing after her.

Bellona swallowed nervously. It was would be hard going to cross the open floor, get up the open stairs and down the coverless walkway without being riddled with buckshot.

Looking around her she saw her three bolter teams. The six women were her responsibility. She did not want them to die. Lose or failure, where her two options..

"My team, listen here!" she said. Six anxious faces stared back at her.

"Sirona, Calla, Sophia are going to rush to the other side. Get in amongst those machines over there and set up a new firing angle on that hatch. Brigantia, Osha and Antu are going to provide cover fire from this side. Once we're all in position, I'll get up those stairs and seal the hatch."

"Seal it, how?" Sirona asked.

Bellona ignored her and called out, "Sapper!"

The navy demolitions man appeared a few moments later, "Eh?" he asked.

"You're coming with me."

"I hope it's on a date," Jox joked.

"No, you fool," Bellona pointed in the direction of the hatch. "Up there."

**::::**

The three Ath women darted out under a hail of protective lasfire and nested themselves in amongst the dark, oily machines. They had a clear view of the hatch, and started taking shots into the dark space. The other three took up position and also peppered the hatch with constant discouraging las.

Bellona and Jox hunkered down behind a large machine as close to the foot of the steps as they could get. Jox said, "I hope you're not the death of me."

"Me too," Bellona said, then waved her hand to the Brigantia, chopping it up and down. Six lasgun opened up on full-auto.

Bellona pushed Jox forwards and ran head-down towards the stairs. Her long legs covered the distance quickly and she darted up the steps, three at a time.

Once she reached the catwalk she threw herself down on her stomach and aimed her las at the dark hatchway, fifteen meters in front of her. She let rip on auto.

Squat and awkward, Jox stamped loudly up the steps and thundered around her prone form, lumbering his way towards the dark hatch. As he neared the hatch, the cover fire from below stopped.

The moment it did, a weapon barrel poked out the darkness, and boomed loudly. Jox stumbled and fell against the catwalk railing. He grunted and righted himself, drew his service revolver and returned fire.

Bellona pushed herself up and darted forwards, holding her las above her head and fired into the darkness. Once she reached Jox, she dropped to a knee and glanced at him.

The man stood upright, though in pain. The front of his trousers was soaked in dark blood. He grumbled, "Don't look at me, go!" She watched him pull a grenade from a vest pouch.

Bellona reloaded her las and ran forwards, zig-zagging as much as she could on the narrow meter wide walkway.

At the hatchway she held down the trigger of the las and waved it in a wide V, aiming at getting the spaces to either side of the hatch. She then tucked herself into what minimal cover the hatchway itself provide.

Jox threw his grenade. It landed short.

Right at Bellona's feet.

With a shrill scream she swiftly booted it through the hatch and into the tunnel. She turned away, it exploded and shrapnel decorated the corridor beyond. With a harsh look Bellona looked back at Jox, the man was struggling forwards, one hand clamped onto the railing, the other on his stomach. As a precaution, Bellona threw her own frag through the hatch, waited for it to explode, then darted back and grabbed him around the waist and pulled him forwards. "Move it, you fat bastard," she snarled.

The squat sapper just grunted with each step. At the hatchway, Bellona stepped through first, sweeping the empty corridor with her las. There were two bodies, one near the hatch, the other further away, face down. Half dozen weapons laid on the ground. There was lots of blood. Bellona thought it a sign that others had been here, and these two were just rearguard. Jox quickly slapped two demo-charges just inside the gangway, one on the ceiling and the other on the floor.

"Done," he winced.

Bellona stepped back, and took his arm over her shoulder, and walked backwards away from the hatch, las aimed. Once they reached the stairs, they were covered from the six laswomen below and rushed with clumsy, undignified haste to get behind cover.

Bellona leaned Jox against bulk machinery and he looked at his chrono. Bellona did that same, and much to her surprise, the whole assault had taken less than a minute. She sighed and shivered as adrenaline pulsed through her veins.

The demo-charge exploded and hatch way was sealed.

**::::**

"My Captain," spoke a junior officer aboard the _Road to Wotan's_ bridge.

Eckles nodded his acknowledgement and the man continued.

"Second wave shuttles are departing the enemy vessel, no enemy fire reported."

"Thank you," Eckles said and turned back the tac-table. "Biltore, what is the status of third wave?"

The Master-at-Arms looked down and scrolled through his dataslate, "All of our primary forces have deployed. Our secondary and gang-control units are on activate alert. They can be mobilized in twenty minutes and mustered at the docks in under an hour. Two battalions of Colonel Morrigan's Guardswomen," he paused a moment to nod politely at the colonel, "are in the ready corridors and on one minute alert. They can be onboard the landing boats and readied to go in under ten minutes. Once the wounded are unloaded of course."

"Wounded?" Morrigan asked.

"Standard ship-to-ship protocol. Once the landing sites are secured the wounded that have a chance at survival are evacuated onto returning shuttles."

"Will mine be amongst the returning?"

"I should think so," Biltore said.

Morrigan looked at captain Eckles and said, "I would like to be there when they arrive. With your permission."

"Of course, Colonel," Eckles nodded.

Morrigan clicked her heels together and strode from the bridge.

From the bridge to the docking bays was a journey of nearly three kilometers. First, she took the express left down seven-hundred meters to level sixteen, then stepped into a swift mag-tram which traveled length of the ship. She rode it for one-point-four kilometers. From the terminal stop Morrigan followed the signs and walked to the docking bay. She found it all disconcertingly calm and pedestrian, considering on the other ship, hundreds of her soldiers were engaged in vicious fire-fights.

As she turned a corner so saw two rows of women dressed in grey-green battle kit sitting on wall benches that ran straight for two hundred of meters. When one soldier noticed the colonel, she rose up quickly. As the other Mermaids around her looked to see why she was standing up, they noticed the colonel as well. Soon, hundreds of women rose to their feet, whispering, "It's the Colonel."

Morrigan walked proudly down the corridor, her heart pounding in her chest. Was it pride, fear? Junior officers leaned forward, saluted and muttered, "Colonel," as she passed. She'd stop briefly to lay a hand on a trooper and smile encouragingly or tighten a strap.

The battalion officer stood in the middle of the corridor, watching colonel approach. "Major Cortina," Morrigan said.

"Colonel, what do we owe the honor?" Cortina asked.

"Just wanted to see you all, was all. Anything to report?"

"Negative, ma'am. Other then we're ready, just say the word."

"I will, and shortly too."

Cortina nodded and swallowed nervously.

Morrigan walked past her and a few dozen meters along entered the enormous docking bay. It was compartmentalized; each hundred meter wide segment was separated by huge, dark flying-buttress and thick grey blast doors. Monstrous claw-arms hung in the shadowy rafters and the air stank of oil and ozone emitted by the void shield.

Morrigan shuddered at the size and scale and dark mystery of space. It terrified her.

"Colonel?" asked a deep voice.

Morrigan looked around and saw Cronus lurking nearby. The man had an unlit cigar in his mouth and data-slate in hand. He had a bolt pistol and chainsword strapped at his waist.

"Going somewhere?" Morrigan asked, pointing at the weapons.

"Just to do my duty," Cronus said.

"You weren't on the first wave?"

"I was here and saw them off. Got their blood pumped with a few choice words. I thought it best of Major Rhoda was seen leading the first action. We commissar's have a reputation as being glory hounds, and I want to start things off right with the girls."

Morrigan nodded at that. It was a strangely thoughtful consideration. They stood in silence for a long time until an overhead siren sounded and lights flashed.

"Shuttles coming in," Cronus said. Morrigan nodded.

Navy servicecrew and ratings in brown coveralls gathered in the compartment and started operating machines. A few moments later servitors with their lower-halves transformed into wheeled flat-beds trundled in, navy doctors and medics came with them – fast response units to rush the critically wounded to the nearby infirmary. Lastly, the Ath medical team, pushed medical trollies and gurneys strode into the compartment.

Cronus looked at Morrigan.

The colonel said, "I had them alerted. I want everyone to know we take care of our own. To start things off right."

Cronus nodded and chewed his cigar.

Another four minutes passed and the huge bulk of the landing craft passed in front of the void screen. The external lamps of the _Road to Wotan_ spotlighted the craft executing a half turn and powering backwards into the compartment. As it passed through the void shield, a wave of noise and heat slammed the docking bay. Cronus's stromcoat flapped angrily, he simply ducked his head slight, so as to not lose his hat.

The backwash from the landing craft stank of hot metal, chemical propellants and burning rubber. Another two followed in quick secession.

As soon as the landers touched down on their oversized landing skids, the ramps hissed open. The navy deckcrew moved with professional confidence. Senior ratings darted forward to connect feeder pipes and coolant tubes, electro-cables and data-feed hardlines. Navy and medical officers ran up the ramps and took instructions from the loadmaster and the lander-crewhands.

Officers waved the nearby lower ratings into the landers, and they started carrying out wounded men and women. The navy medical teams started triage stations and instructed who was to go where.

Hundreds of navy armsmen were lined up, side-by-side, where medics assessed their damage and likelihood of survival. Those too far gone were ignored in favor of those they could save. The goners received a heavy dose of morphia to dull the pain of leaving their moral coil.

Ath women, in much fewer numbers came down the ramps as well. Morrigan spotted a blood soaked grey-green uniform on a stretcher and rushed forwards. As she approached the litter one of the ratings brashly said, "Stand aside."

"She's Ath, take here over there," Morrigan said firmly.

The navy man looked at her, noting the gold collar pin and even though he did not know what rank it signified, he understand the uncompromising face of the huge commissar standing close behind her. The hard-faced political officer nodded in agreement.

The litter-team changed direction and took them to the Ath doctors.

Keeping her eyes sharp for her wounded women Morrigan some call her name. "Colonel Morrigan!" a voice called out.

Morrigan looked around and saw a navy petty officer shouting her name and looking around. She raised her hand up and shouted, "Here!"

The petty officer saw her and rushed over. "The Captain sends his compliments, and seeks a word with you." Before she could ask how, the petty officer directed her towards a large wall-mounted intercom unit. The petty officer passed her the speaking horn, and patched her through to the bridge. She spoke, "Morrigan here, go ahead."

"Eckles speaking. Morrigan you've a battalion on standby-to-go. They are required. They are to mount up as soon as the wounded are off those landers."

"Understood, Captain. I'll see to it."

"I acknowledge your last," the com unit clicked and there was only silence. Morrigan looked at the horn and slowly hung it up.

**::::**

"Seahorse Six, Seahorse Two. You hear me?" Lily asked.

"Two, Six, I hear you," Bellona replied.

"Status?"

"Hatch secure. Egress Secure."

"Casualties?" Lily asked.

"Negative Ath. One Navy. He's been evaced."

"Firm receipt. We've secure the exit to the room. Three wounded here. One dead. Marbaba. They're been evaced now. They should be with you in a few. See them out, then, I want to you with me. We're continuing to move towards objective Alpha."

Bellona spotted the walking wounded and two women carrying the corpse of Senior Private Marbaba in a dirty tarp. As they passed Bellona noticed she had been shot in the mouth; her jaw was completely gone and her throat and neck were a red ruin. Her upper teeth were remarkably intact and gleamed white.

Everyone stared as they walked past. Most made the sign of the Aquila. Someone vomited noisily.

"Six?" Lily asked over the vox.

Bellona startled, she clicked the send rune and said, "Confirm Six. Be with you shortly." She released the rune and muttered, "_Throne_."

Once the wounded had been seen through the hatch Bellona's and Ro'o's teams moved forwards to meet with Lily on the bulk of the remaining platoon. Less than an hour before they had been fifty strong, now they were down fourteen members, with one confirmed dead and four wounded.

Lily looked around at the numbers and frowned. Bellona could almost read her thoughts, she had been to overzealous with sending seven women to escort the lieutenant back to the landing site. She needed those women now.

They gathered around and waited for her orders. Lily was not a threatening presence, even fully geared-up for the Emperor's Wars. She had short grey hair, and was generally small in stature, except her wide-hips and bow-legged run. However, she had knowledge formed from a life-time in the Guard. People respected her experience and many were put-off by her blunt, efficient style of speaking.

She took a knee with Ishara and pointed to the data-slate.

"Sergeants on me," she said. The squad leader gathers around them. "The rest of Love Company has moved through these compartments here, here and here. Also, second platoon has moved down two levels and are attempting to under-flank the enemy here."

The data-slate showed a bewildering array of data, not much of which made sense to Bellona.

Lily continued, "We're going to deviate from our intended route and pass through this area here. It's logged as 'crew rest' area. They're either sleeping quarters or restive chambers … none of which should be occupied during a full on space battle and boarding action. We will use them to go around and come at the Alpha objective from the side. Any questions?"

Ro'o asked, "What of Meeghen and the others?"

Lily said, "I'd like them to catch up, but I suspect they'll be taking in by other units." She looked at Bellona, "You keep the sappers explosives?"

"Yes, Sergeant Major," Bellona tapped the heavy bag at her feet. "Not that I know how to use them."

Ro'o, the mortar sergeant, said, "I've got experience with bombs, pass them here."

"Gladly," Bellona said and pushed the bag over with her boot.

"Outstanding work Bellona," Lily said. "We'll move out in fire-teams, two by two. Ishara call the route as you see fit."

"Yes, Sergeant Major," Ishara said. She stood up and said, "First team, twenty meters on the left there should be a left-hand junction, take it."

Lily nodded and chopped with her hand, the first fire team moved off at a quick trot.

"Bellona, you watch our tail."

"Yes, Sergeant Major."

They passed through corridors and rooms without any further contact with the pirates. The Ath fire-teams move in inexperienced but thoroughly rehearsed move-and-cover method. One team would move forwards, secure themselves behind cover and watch the area for movement. At a signal the next team would advance past them, and take up cover-and-cover further along. And so they moved rapidly but defensively along the gangways and compartments.

"You check it?" Bellona asked Nanna.

"First squad cleared it," Nanna replied back, standing half-way through a hatchway. She held the door open with her boot and paned her weapon around.

"Calla Nanna, did you check it?" Bellona asked again softly, "I want to be sure."

"No Sergeant, I haven't," Nanna said and Bellona joined her at the door.

"Go on, I got you covered," Bellona said, leaning against the door, keeping it open. Light from the corridor crept into the room, and Bellona saw a lavatory with a long row of toilet cubicles. She put her red-dot on the wall of nearest as Nanna leaned down to look under the stalls.

The young solider saw no feet and got up. She stepped lightly over to the first door and kicked it open, las raised.

Nothing.

Second door, nothing.

Third, fourth, five … nothing. Sixth door she kicked open and twitched, and tried to get her lasgun up, but it was too late. The man standing on the toilet seat fired his weapon, a fat-barreled pistol, at less than a meter.

The huge projectile slammed into Nanna at an incredible velocity, she flew across the lavatory and smashed into the metal-mirror and steel sink basins. She collapsed to the floor and looked blurrily down at the cartridge that had dented her chestplate and was stuck in her combat webbing.

Bellona unloaded half her cell into the toilet stalls thin metal walls a in tight Z-pattern, then took two steps forward and unleashed the other half.

A second later the cartridge from the flare-gun erupted, blazing like a burning star, scorching Nanna's face and body with blazing chemicals. The woman screamed and flailed, and burned.

Bellona raced over and had to look away for the searing light as she grabbed the flare. Her glove and sleeve instantly ignited and she thumped them against her thigh, smothering them with her body. Not being able to touch the flare, Bellona used her rifle to whack the fist-sized cartridge off Nanna.

The chemicals released by the cartridge were potent. Bellona choked on the fumes as she tried to drag Nanna out of the lavatory, and she collapsed after only a few steps, her lungs burning. She could not see them, but hands shot out and dragged them both of the lavatory.

Once clear of the burning fumes Bellona heaved in air. Her eyes ran with tears and nose leaked snot. She coughed and spat, coughed and spat.

One of her gunners, Sophia, had done a secondary skills course in first-aid and tried to help Nanna. There was nothing she could do to help. Nanna's burns were extensive and horrific.

Women held her as she shuddered, gasped, twitched and died.

Bellona lay near her, her hand stretched out holding Nanna's own. She stared and cried softly.

The platoon was called to halt and Ro'o turned back to assist Bellona. The sergeant was having difficulty breathing and gasped for air. The mortar sergeant sat on her knees and leaned Bellona back onto her, easing the pressure and tension on her torso. Sirona had found a re-breather unit mounted in a local aid box and Bellona held the mask to her face.

Bellona pulled the mask aside and said, "Don't send me back."

"Arda, you can hardly breathe. You need medical attention."

"It's getting better. It's much easier now then it was a few minutes ago." He held the mask to face and took half-a-dozen deep breathes. "The air is helping. It's cold."

Ro'o shook her head.

Sergeant Major Lily stamped up, "Bellona?"

Bellona gave a thumbs up.

Ro'o pushed her hand away, "She's got burns to her lungs."

Bellona stood up, tossed the oxy-mask away and stretched her arms above her head. She gave a quick, pained gasp as her lungs stretched, but she grinned and bared the pain.

Lily shook her head. She picked up Bellona's lasgun and held it out to her. She asked, "What do you know when you hear the Siren calling?"

Bellona took her weapon and replied, "Not follow the sound."

Lily said, "Wrong, if you can hear the Siren, you know where she is. If you know where she is, you can kill her."

**::::**

Morrigan oversaw the unloading of the Ath wounded and loading of Cortina's four companies. As the young Captain Sorba of Medusa Company stepped onto the ramp she looked down and saw the trails of blood, feces, and gore left behind by the wounded.

As she looked back, uncertain. Cronus stomped up next to her.

He said, "Sorba, there will be more where that came from. Make sure it's someone else's, if you know what I mean."

"Yes, Commissar," she gulped and waved her company into the lander. The women reluctantly stepped daintily through the mess, muttering and complaining.

Cronus growled under his breath, "Throne almighty." Then he yelled in a parade ground bellow, "You act like you've never seen a bit a blood in your day. I thought all women saw _red_ once a month."

The bizarre comment made more than a few heads turn his way.

"If you don't want _that_ to be _your_ blood, or the blood of Ath you'd better get damn _hard_! There are heretics trying to kill you and yours out there. And you're worried about getting your damned boots dirty," Cronus raged.

"Get your fat-asses up the ramp. NOW!" He drew out his bolt pistol and held it in the air for all to see. Medusa Company rapidly stampeded up the ramp.

Cronus returned to Morrigan. The colonel stared sternly at the commissar, the man just grunted. "That'd put some fire in their balls." He thought about what he had just said and looked at Morrigan, he shrugged slightly, "You know what I mean."

"Yes, Commissar," Morrigan said neutrally.

"I'd best go with 'em," he said out the corner of his month, chewing on his cigar. "I believe they will need my encouragement."

"Yes, Commissar," Morrigan replied neutrally again.

Cronus turned to look at her and said, "Furia, I needn't tell you what is going to happen over there. And you know only faith in the God-Emperor, hard training, and fearless courage will see a Guardsmen through the cauldron of war. However, I like to think no one kills my charges but me."

Morrigan eyed the commissar, wondering if that was his of saying '_don't worry, I'll look after the_ _girls_.' She said, "That's hardy reassuring, Castle."

"You want assurance, join the Church."


	6. Sea Turtle

**Five**  
**Sea Turtle**

**::::**

_"You will shoot your enemy once, to ensure he fights no more that day! You will shoot traitors twice, to ensure nothing less than their deserved death!"  
_-Lord Governor Charleston, during the defense of his home estate from a Traitor Guard Uprising

**::::**

Scrambling along a corridor Cronus stepped over and dodged around Ath Guardswomen, who hunkered down along the walls. The Ath had been aboard the _Victus Mea's_for nearly thirty hours. There where long periods of silence, broken by suddenly moments of violence.

The bulk of women of three companies, Junker, Kappa, and Love had halted a T-junction a few hundred meters away from the entrance into the secondary engineerium. Cronus was not pleased with their stationary status.

He spotted the three captains in conference and stood up fully. He took a moment to flatten his shirt and straightened his sash, then he put on his best scowl.

"Officers of the Imperium!" he yelled as he strolled up, seemingly unconcerned with nearby dangers.

The officers looked around and swallowed, "Commissar," they said in unison.

Cronus looked down at them, and the other junior officers and signalers gathered around them. "What in the Emperor's name are you playing at?"

"We've at a bit of an impasse, sir," said Captain Epona of Love Company.

"Why don't I hear any firing?" It was true, no Ath had eyes on target.

Epona took a data-slate from her signaler, and showed it to Cronus.

The commissar took the device and dropped to a knee. Epona pointed to the screen, "We're here, and they are here. We've tired to assault the chamber, but have yet to secure a foot-hold. They also have an unrestricted sightline straight down that corridor." Epona nodded to the T-junction, twenty meters away. "Without some heavy weapons we're not in a good place. I've sent two platoons around through these sections to press the attack from a different angle."

Cronus frowned and said, "It won't work. The chamber is designed to be a killing field. All of the critical system hubs are. Look at the distance from any of the chamber blastdoors to the inner door. Forty meters of uninterrupted space. They can lay down relentless fire at any entryway." Cronus's thick finger travelled over the slate's surface. "And they'll have floor-deck barricades."

"What's that?"

Cronus ignored her question and looked down the corridor, and said, "Come with me." He jogged a length of metal gangway, a dozen officers followed, and they stopped at an intersection. Cronus pointed to the deck, "here."

On the deck was a metal pull-ring. Cronus reached down and grabbed it, grunted loudly as he yanked hard. A one metre-by-metre section of metal deck lifted and clanked as the locked into a vertical position. Cronus dropped to a knee behind the sudden barricade and propped his hand on the top edge, fingers now shaped like a pistol. "Bang, bang."

"That explains a lot," Epona said. "How do you know so much about the Navy vessels, Commissar?"

Cronus stood up, tall and powerful and glared down at Epona, "Only poor officers and lazy soldiers don't investigate the natural advantages and hazards of their current and forthcoming locations."

Epona did not reply, she just stared at the barricade in silence.

Cronus grunted and said to the assembled officers, "We're returning to that T-junction, and you're getting the deck-shields erected. Then, you will put so Emperor-damned fire on the enemy. Then you will order your other teams to do the same. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," they replied.

They raced back to their original position and Cronus lurked at the back of the group while the three captains sorted out the particulars.

"I want volunteers on me, now," Epona said. Her first platoon's Lieutenant Lampa stepped forward first, another half dozen behind her. She gathered them just before the edge of the corridor and pointed to the pull ring set in the middle of the perpendicular corridor, four meters away. "You see that ring in the deck?"

Lampa nodded.

"You saw what the commissar did. You need to grabbed it, and pull it upright."

Lampa took a breath and nodded again. She paused for a moment and gave Epona her rifle. She took a quick breathe and darted out, staying low. She got both hands on the ring and pulled hard. The barricade had risen a metre when she was struck by a hail of hard-rounds. She was knocked backwards and the barricade fell back to into its slot.

Private Keya darted out next and tired for the pull-ring. The pirates pummeled her body with rounds before she could get a hand on it. Another Ath women stepped out to try for the ring and was rewarded with a round to the neck, her blood splattered Epona's face. The Captain flinched and looked around at Cronus.

The Commissar glared at her. He bellowed, "Next!"

And another Ath women darted out. And was killed. It was not long before ten lay dead in the corridor, mere metres from their compatriots. "This isn't working," Cronus muttered. He waved his hand for the women to stop trying their luck.

"Captain, come here," he snarled.

Epona stumbled over to him. "Sir?"

"We're going to try something different," Cronus said and walked off.

Epona muttered under her breath, "Thank the Throne."

"What?" Cronus rounded on her, towering over her he yelled, "I didn't stop to save their lives! I stopped because it wasn't efficient. Understand?"

"Sir," she replied, eyes looking over his shoulder. "The plan?"

Cronus snarled at her, and said, "I thinking something old-old fashioned."

"Sir?"

"Come with me."

**::::**

Bellona felt a nudge and opened her eyes. Sergeant Major Lily looked at her, "Times up."

Bellona nodded and worked her mouth a few times, it was gummy and tasted bad. She glanced at her chrono, she had been a sleep for only two hours. But at least she had slept on an actual cot. She climbed out of cot and stretched. Ro'o snored softly nearby. Some of the other Lovers slept or smoked and stared into space. Lily was waking those asleep and getting her teams together. It was time to move out.

Lily and Ishara had tried their best to keep the route as direct as possible, but that provide impossible. The previous day they had travelled nearly twenty kilometers along a circuitous and confused route. Many passageways were blocked by rubble and sealed blastdoors. Behind some of those doors rooms had flooded with plasma, leaving sections of walls, floors, and ceilings melted and sagging, or exposed directly to the void. After the fire-fight in the machine-chamber they had had no contact with the enemy.

Lily looked at her sergeants and said, "I've had enough of this wondering around nonsense. I want each of you to take a squad and push out in different routes. Objective one, is to establish the location of the enemy. Objective two, is to establish the location of any Imperial forces." Lily looked at them and smirked slightly, she said, "Try not to get those two confused."

Signaller Ishara, her vox-caster laying by her boot said, "A third objective, if I may Sergeant Major, is to find an operational comms terminal. I've had little luck with the caster-unit. There is a lot of electro-magnetic and radiation interference. If I can connect to a terminal, I can get updated information on where everyone is."

The sergeants nodded and the meeting ended. Bellona found her squad and five members got up to accompany her.

Fearful of getting lost, at each junction they marked the corner of the wall in wax pen with their unit's shorthand marker: _2nd - 3/L (HW)._ After a cautious walk of nearly two hours, they tramped along a narrow balcony. There was an open hatch in front of them and Bellona waved her hands for her squad to hold position and edged her head around a hatchway, rifle up and ready. She looked into a small machine-room. It was red-lit and full of dark shadows, but she could hear voices nearby.

Bellona waved to her team and slipped through the hatch, alone. She stuck to the shadows and slipped between a gap in two large pipes. Panning around she saw a small alcove to her left. Staying low she moved as quietly as she could. At the edge of the alcove she quickly stuck just her eyes and lasgun around the edge

In the alcove stood three people. Their long robes were tattered and tread-bare. Metal glinted on their faces and heads. Augmented heads looked at her, as if they were expecting her.

One of them turned it's head and looked across the chamber. Bellona followed it's gaze. A dozen pirates were setting up a barricade at a wide hatch. They had pushed up some deck shields and settled down to protect the passageway with shotguns and autoguns.

The Mechanicus returned his optics to her and he raised it's arms. They were shackled to the alcove by thick chains. It took Bellona a moment to understand they were prisoners.

"Assist us," one of them hummed softly at her through a synthetic voice box.

Bellona stepped back and sneaked back to her squad. She waved them to her. "I've located some hostiles. A dozen or so. And some Mechanicus prisoners, "she whispered, "we're going to set up behind and above them, along the pipeline. Wait for my signal to open fire. Follow me and stay silence."

Her squad followed her, and she directed them to spots along the thick pipes spaced three or four meters apart. From behind the enemy, they had cover and a good angle of the activity of the pirates. Bellona slipped back into the alcove and motioned for the Mechanicus to get down. They squatted as low as the chains would let them.

Bellona laid on the deck and aimed her lasgun on the pirates below. She clicked her vox rune and intoned, "Fire at will."

The six women unload a dozen bolts each. The pirates below them were lacerated and killed before they could muster a response. Some attempted to flee, only to hit in the back. Once the firing stopped Bellona waited a few seconds, steam rising her weapon. From behind a shield-plate a bloody arm stretched out, followed by an elbow and finally a head. A single crack sounded and a blink of light later, the man's head blow apart. Bellona stood up slowly.

She turned to face the Mechanicus and looked at their chains. Sirona appeared at her side.

"Cutters?" Bellona asked is a sharp whisper. A wave of negatives came back to her.

"Fug it," she said. "Step back," she said to the Mechanicus and raised her lasgun to the chains. In quick secession she shot loose the chains.

"Sirona, get these Cogs down the line and back into safety. Then get back here."

"Aye, sergeant," Sirona said and made to hustle the Mechanicus personal away. A hard shot whistled and pinked off a nearby bulkhead, making Sirona duck down. Another round pierced the head of a tech-priest. He collapsed without making a sound.

"Nevermind that," Bellona said quickly ducking, "we've got to move!"

Bellona led them back the way they had come and slipped through the large pipes. The tech-priests shuffled as quickly as they could, and awkwardly clambered through the gap.

Once back to the relative safety of the hatchway, Bellona turned to the tech-priest and said, "Go with her, she will see you to safety."

One of them stood up and she noted his was huge. He had two bionics arms, two glowing cyber-eyes, and his forehead and dome where polished silver. He hummed at her, "Negative. The Omnissah requires us to input his wraith at the sacrilege inflected upon his creations."

Bellona just stared at the man, not sure what he saying.

"Arm us. We will assist you," the tech-priest said.

"No," Bellona said, shaking her head, "you have to go with Sirona and get away from here. I can't take you with me, you'd be a liability."

The tech-priest titled his head slightly, "You are erroneous. I know the layout of the secondary atmospheric relay. You could use said conduits to get around the current stalemate and attack the heretics command unit."

"Wait, clarify for me what you just said … are you saying you know how to get behind the enemy, and, where their command element is?"

"Affirmative."

"Welcome to the team," Bellona said and passed her laspistol to the tech-priest. "Bellona," she introduced herself.

"Tarn," the tech-priest hummed.

**::::**

It had taken Cronus and the women of Ath nearly six hours to rig up what they were now 'Cronus's Testudo.' The commissar and more technically savvy guardswomen and navy sappers had collected nearly twenty sheets of shield decking. Each deck plate was a metre square and weighted one-hundred-eighty kilos. With some fast welding and non-Mechanicus approved metalwork they had created an old-fashioned shield wall.

Cronus had a section of the troopers take the weight of the front wall and slide it out onto the corridor where ten of their compatriots lay dead.

At the moment the wall appeared the pirates started shooting. Hardrounds pounded the wall, and women behind it had to hunkered down and put their shoulders against the metal decks to keep them upright.

From the corner Cronus called out, "Push!" The guardswomen took a step forward and shoved the wall half a meter. "Push!" Cronus called out again. The wall had moved forward in small budges until it had shifted five meters. Cronus waved his hand and four guardswomen holding a deck plate like a stretcher-party, one at each corner, darted low around the corner. They crawled forward and when they reached the front wall being supported by the first section, they heaved the deck up and locked it into place. They had attached a support leg on the underside of the place, and a guardswomen swung it down. The metal leg took the weight of the plate. The first roof section was up. Two more deck-party teams moved out and attached their roof units. Slowly, under Cronus's direction they created an armored shell. A tank powered by leg strength.

The pirates continued to fire burst of rounds down the corridor. A grenade was thrown and landed short of the wall, the explosion rocked the wall, several women stagger and wall nearly collapsed.

Cronus ducked out and scrambled on hands and knees, under the decking, he yelled, "Hold the wall, up! Hold it!" Hands and booted feet from prone women held the deck up.

Cronus yelled back, "Second section, on me!" Twenty women scampered out and joined Cronus under the meter high decking. "Get some arms on the plating, don't let it collapse, or we're all dead." The guardswomen took to supporting the various plates.

Next Cronus called up another to plates and had them attached to the sides, creating wings that would fold out as the testudo advanced into the chamber.

"Right, my armored ladies," Cronus drew his bolt pistol, "Let's do this. On my command … PUSH!" the entire structure shunted forwards. "Again!"

Slowly, the armored shell advanced down the corridor towards the entrance chamber of the secondary engineerium.

**::::**

Bellona and her squad returned to Lily, with the two Mechanicus tech-priests in tow. The rest of the understrength platoon was there. They seemed to have been waiting for Bellona. Lily waved her over, and Bellona made to speak but Lily held up her hand. She said, "Pack it in, Sergeant. We're moving out, post-haste."

"Sergeant Major, I have an update for you," Bellona said, pointing to the tech-priests, "on them."

"Whatever it is, it can wait. We finally received a message from Company. Garbled, but clear enough for us to get a positive location out of them. We're to meet up with them as soon as we can."

Bellona said, "The cogs here have some tactical information you'll want to hear."

Lily looked at the two Mechanicus servants. The stood perfectly still and watched the two NCO's blankly. Lily looked back at Bellona, "Which is?"

Bellona nodded to Tarn. The tech-priest stepped forward, "I have the location of the enemy command element," said, copying Bellona's earlier words.

Lily looked at Bellona. The Sergeant Minor could only shrug.

"Ishara, get Company on the talk-box," Lily called out.

Ishara called down the line and after few moments passed the phone to Lily. Lily talked to the officer at the other end, explaining their status and disposition. She sternly passed the horn back to Ishara. She looked at Bellona. "We have our orders. We have to return to the Company."

Bellona looked confused, "We know where the enemy is. Shouldn't we take advantage of that?"

Tarn added in, "This data most be processed with haste. It's validity is not with expiration."

"For Fug's-sake! I know!" Lily punched her fist into her other palm. "Orders are orders, Sergeant Minor. I plan on following them. You on the other hand," she poked the women in the chest, "will take these cogs and find out where the enemy commander is. Find the location and find a way to get in touch with me. Understand?"

"Yes, Sergeant Major."

Lily grabbed her arm and pulled her close, "Don't be a damned fool and act the hero, girl. Do as you're told. Get your eyeballs on the enemy and report back."

**::::**

The tech-priest was good on his word. He led Bellona and her squad back a few hundred meters, through a few unmarked hatchways and through a ventilation grill. Once through the grill it was no easy task to work their way through the maze of duct work. At some junctions, heavy blast covers had dropped into place when atmospheric leaks were detected. At others, fumes and other gases leaked into the ducts, forcing the Aths to put on respirators. The extra stress on Bellona's lungs caused her a great deal of pain. Some sections were completely ruined or blocked with debris.

Through it all Tarn and his silent assistant moved with a purpose only the vengeful possessed. According to her chrono they had been crawling or scampering through the tunnels and back passageways for the better part of four hours.

Suddenly, Tarn stopped and noted a dark terminal against the wall. He approached it and a small mechatendrite extended from his wrist and slotted into a small hole. The terminal came to life slowly. The other tech-priest, who had not spoken a single word, stepped next to Tarn and did the same.

"Destination near." Tarn chimed.

Bellona walked to the terminal and looked at the screen. Lines of green numbers flickered by quickly. None of it meant a thing to her. She said, "Where?"


End file.
